


I'll Be Your Animal

by Poppedthep



Series: I Bet Verse [2]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, I Bet - The Epilogue/Sequel, M/M, just a tiny sprinkle of angst, nauseating amounts of fluff, so so long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-20 11:23:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19991356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poppedthep/pseuds/Poppedthep
Summary: The problem with having an extremely romantic boyfriend you love very much is it makes you want to do ridiculous romantic things just to put that stupid smile on his cute little face. Even when you are not naturally romantically inclined. That was how Brock found himself stood awkwardly at LAX with a bunch of flowers next to a crowd of about thirty Vanjie fans and paparazzi.This is the epilogue/sequel for I Bet!Can probably be read alone, may not make total sense if you haven’t read I Bet (In which basically Vanjie became extremely famous, got a new boyfriend, and after a long angsty time apart he and Brooke Lynn eventually got back together).





	1. The Airport

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone who wanted a sequel! 
> 
> Ridiculous fluff p much, tiny dash of angst. Was going to be short but once I started writing it kept growing! These two wouldn’t shut up in my brain. Split it into parts in case you need breaks for snacks or to live your life or something. You will probably need breaks - it's very very long!! arguably too long! arguably less an epilogue and more a short novel! arguably could do with more editing and is kind of unwield-ily meandering in many places but it would take the rest of my life to edit as much as it needs and then you'd never read it! maybe pace yourself and read one chap a day or something? tap out if it gets too much!? I should probably spread out the release of the chaps, but you know me, they’re all going up together!
> 
> All the places referenced really exist - google them if you’d like a full immersive experience. Also referenced are the tattoos from my oneshot New York, which comes before this. (In which literally all you missed is them getting tattoos for each other but check it out if you haven’t). As always, these characters are fictional!
> 
> Title from Bad Guy lyrics, B Hytes style. :)

The problem with having an extremely romantic boyfriend who you love very much is that it makes you want to do ridiculous romantic things just to put that stupid little smile on his cute face. Even when you are not naturally romantically inclined.

That was how Brock found himself stood awkwardly at LAX with a bunch of flowers next to a crowd of about thirty hardcore Vanjie fans and paparazzi.

He knew Jose was back tonight from their phone call earlier but he found the flight time on their shared calendar to surprise him at the airport.

Who knows how everyone else found it.

Unfortunately his sheltered Canadian self is still adjusting to exactly how famous his boyfriend has become, and how America is with that level of fame. He didn’t anticipate this could be a problem.

Jose appears out of a different side exit, surrounded by security, looking petite and adorable between their large physiques. He’s wearing a white hoodie Brock hasn’t seen before which must be new and his current favorite Gucci bomber. New kicks too, glaringly white with neon accents. He bounces along like he’s pumping down a runway - not intentionally, it’s just how he moves - looking every inch the jet set celebrity.

People notice him and start pointing and swarming over. He gives an apologetic little wave and then pulls his cap down and speeds past, blocked off by his entourage, doesn’t even glance over at Brock.

Bit of a hitch in the plan.

Brock phones him. From a distance he sees Jose feel his phone ring, check the caller ID, smile, and answer,

“Hello,”

“Giving me the cold shoulder now, huh?”

“What you talkin bout? I’m at the airport.”

“I know. Turn around.”

Jose does, frowning, and Brock straightens to his full 6”3, jumps a bit and waves.

Jose’s face lights up when he sees him, and he screams, which makes the fans scream. Brock is blinded by paparazzi flashes as Jose drops all his bags and runs at him, throws himself into Brock’s arms.

He catches him easily and just about manages to save the flowers. Jose wraps arms around the top of his shoulders, holds the back of Brock's neck and dives in for a kiss and everyone around them goes, “awww.”

“What you doing here?” one hand moves to Brock’s face, he's smiling hugely. 

“Trying to be romantic and surprise you,” Brock says, shaking his head with chagrin. “Obviously a terrible idea.”

“Awww,” Jose grins, delighted, stroking his face. Brock can feel his stomach moving against his with excited breaths. 

Jose’s bodyguards are carrying the bags he dropped when he saw Brock, trying to hold back fans and paparazzi swarming around them, phone cameras and blinding flashes everywhere like this is a show, and he doesn’t even want to think about his Instagram tags tomorrow morning.

He tries to tune it out as security pushes people back to give them space, narrows his focus to Jose in his arms.

“I even made dinner. I can make risotto now,” he says proudly.

“Dinner and flowers hmm? Somebody tryna get these cookies tonight, huh, Twinkle Toes?”

“Just trying to treat you nice baby,” he kisses him softly and hands him the flowers.

“Missed you, Big Guy.”

Yes, fine, Brock is a giant softie at heart. Not everyone gets that side of him but he’s okay with his boyfriend having it.

“Chil’,” Jose shakes his head. “You _tryna_ make me cry at the airport is what you tryna do,” Jose’s eyes are melty soft and he hits him playfully with the flowers. Then he puts a hand on his cheek and kisses him sweetly.

“Thank you baby.”

“You’re welcome. And don’t act like you weren’t just texting from the plane that you’re hungry for Canadian bacon,” Brock raises his eyebrows playfully, sticks his tongue out, pats a few light smacks against his tush.

“True that!” Jose laughs, winds his hands around Brock’s neck. They’re face to face because he hasn’t jumped down yet, still has his legs wrapped around Brock’s waist.

“Got a craving baby. You gonna scratch my itch?”

“I think you’re mixing metaphors.”

“Baby I don’t care about metaphors, I been missing your dick for three weeks. You gonna fuck me?”

Brock shakes his head at the bluntness, giggles,

“Yes, Papi,” kisses him, squeezes his ass as much as he dares in public, and says against his mouth,

“The risotto can wait. First thing I’m planning to do when we get home is fuck you.”

“Risotto can wait huh? Oh, she serious,” Jose teases and his eyes sparkle. Brock belatedly hopes none of those paparazzi have good mics on their cameras or the ability to lip read.

“You bring your car?”

Brock says, “Mmhmm,” and Jose jumps down and finds his driver waiting among his entourage.

“Luca, you can take off home, baby, I’m all good. My Toes gonna drive me. He done come pick me up. Flowers and everything, ain’t he sweet?” Jose brandishes the flowers proudly at his driver, who nods and smiles at Brock,

“Very nice.”

“Hi Luca,” Brock smiles demurely. “Enjoy the early night. I’ll try to get him home in one piece.”

“That a man, Luca,” Jose looks Brock up and down appreciatively.

“This right here, this a _man_ , baby. Look at this boy. He my babe. I hope you treatin’ your Miss Lourdes this right, babe,” he is beaming, showing Brock off, making him glad he put the effort in to come, even if it didn’t quite go to plan.

The amount of appreciation he gets when he puts in literally any effort at all always makes it very worth it.

Jose is in such a good mood from seeing him, bouncing with delighted energy, that he stops to take photos with all the fans who were waiting before they leave. Smiles sweetly while each one tells him how much they love him, how important he is to them, how inspirational, how his smile gets them through the day. Brock gets pulled into some of the photos with him, smiles as people tell him how he makes them believe love is real.

Nice of them, sure, but heavy stuff to put on a stranger.

Paparazzi are held back by security but they shout constant questions, trying to provoke responses out of them. Occasionally Jose answers as he signs things with sharpies and smiles for pics.

“Vanjie, how does it feel to see your boyfriend again?”

“Good,”

“You guys are so cute! You must have missed him a lot huh?”

“You know I did,”

“What were you filming out in Romania? Can you give us any details?”

“Chil’ you know I can’t talk bout that. Y’all stop asking dumb shit.”

“Brooke Lynn Hytes, you’re a performer too right? Brock, what are you working on right now?”

“Y’all go check her website, follow her on instagram, bitch, she fierce. My baby talented.”

They keep security around long enough to make it to the car without interference, and then Jose makes it very hard for Brock to actually drive them home, trying to hold hands the whole way.

He plays with the fingers of Brock’s nearest hand, texting with his other.

“Riri wanna go out next weekend when we in New York, boo. That okay? Couple a girls finna come with. They heard I’ma be in town.”

“Cool. Sounds nice.”

Jose has incredible social skills and likes to have fun but he’s not a huge wild party guy. Even less so since he’s become so well known and busy. Now he values quiet nights in and privacy more than anything, intimate dinners with close friends, but he still enjoys a night of dancing every so often. Brock was always more of a bar or dinner person than a club person and is becoming moreso the older he gets, but he can certainly get on board with some occasional wild nights of dancing.

He’s excited about New York next week in general. Always fun when they manage to coordinate travelling to the same city at the same time for work.

“You gon come right? You don’t got no show Friday?”

“Mmhmm. Show’s Saturday.”

“All right good. I told em no bitch we gotta do Friday, they was thinkin Saturday at first.”

Brock is still not used to the idea that at any given time Rihanna might be rearranging her weekend plans around his show schedule.

“I’ll come, boo boo. That’ll be fun,” he lifts the back of Jose’s hand to his mouth and kisses it.

“Adele might come through. Her British ass in town apparently,” Jose grins, excited, scrolling the messages. “Bitch, I wanna meet her, I bet she _fun_.”

Jose is in a group text that consists of some of the coolest people ever assembled in one messaging thread. Between them they could probably organise a worldwide cultural revolution if they wanted. But they mostly use it for sharing memes and arranging nights out.

“Oh Nina’s in New York doing her show. Can we invite her too?”

“Of course, of course! Miss Nina. Shit, we gotta try see that.”

“Maybe the Sunday matinee, after your fitting with Versace?” Brock is pretty good at having both their schedules memorized, especially when they’ll both be in the same city.

“Aww yes! That’a be nice! Aquaria gon be at the fitting, she wanna get drinks after, but a ho can do both. Make it a shalamamamishmash,” he punches Brock in the leg with their linked hands in excitement,

“Ooo bitch we gotta get Gia! Ladies night! Biiiiitch. I love them hos. My original babes. Who else? Aja. Scarlet. Dusty. Monet! That spongy whore.”

Jose cackles and texts with his free hand. Brock sees a notification pop up on the phone he’s using for sat nav that he’s been added to “NY Hoez” a group text of queens they’ll hang with on the New York trip.

Although Brock sees people regularly for gigs and work things, socially he’s spent less time with drag queens than he has in years the longer he’s been back with Jose, meeting more of his other friends, expanding their mutual circle. The new friends he’s made are great, he considers himself lucky to be on first name terms with some super interesting and fun people, but there’s nothing quite like catching up with old friends.

Brock kisses the back of Jose’s hand again, just because he can, enjoying the sight of him bouncing with energy in his passenger seat after nearly three weeks apart. He's taken his jacket and hoodie off and is in a vest, the sunset painting him in gorgeous tones. Brock quietly appreciates every detail of him he hasn't seen in three weeks. His muscular shoulders and arms - small but perfectly formed tightly defined, the softness of his skin, the fullness of his lips, the way he stops fidgeting completely under Brock's quiet intent attention hyper aware of whenever Brock is looking at him and basking in it like sunshine. His familiar powdery spicy mix of perfumes that fills the whole car but is strongest on the back of his wrist. Jose mixes so many high street lady perfumes about half the girls Brock hugs at meet and greets remind him of his boyfriend.

Jose starts stroking his fingers over the heart tattooed on the inside of Brock’s wrist. He always plays or fiddles with it. He likes to touch it, rub it, sometimes press his nail into the outline, trace it.

Brock strokes it himself sometimes unconsciously. Usually when he’s nervous or intimidated, to try calm and ground himself. Hands clasped side stage, or when he gets hit with social anxiety, thumb rubbing over it thinking What Would Vanjie Do?

The tattoos largely happened because Brock struggled to use his words. If they’d thought it through sensibly, three months in was probably a little soon to be getting tattoos. Even seven months if you added the four from the first time.

But they haven’t regretted them yet.

Brock is still getting used to driving his new car. It’s very luxurious rich white lady and he loves it. It makes him want to wear a wig in it so he can toss his hair around bitchily. He recently changed the old faithful one he got when he first moved to LA for a flashy one with tinted windows. Not just a luxury, also a necessity. It was becoming impossible to go anywhere in peace if Jose was with him.

Jose texts his other group message to confirm next weekend’s plans. He reads, types furiously, reads again, frowns, and glances up from his phone hesitantly,

“We thinking 1 Oak Friday....that okay?” he asks, looking intently at Brock.

“They good with keepin people away and everybody like the vibe and the music and all that but I know that where - you know - before….”

“...Where I cried like a baby over you?” Brock raises his eyebrows and laughs, and Jose chuckles in relief.

“Yeah,” trying to hide how smug his smile is. “If that ain’t your jush for a fun night I’ll tell them bitches we ain’t goin there...”

“It’s fine, boo,” Brock is touched at how thoughtful he is to check. “It all worked out in the end.”

As expected he barely has to pucker before Jose is leaning over the center console, pushing up with a hand on his thigh and kissing his lips.

“Unless the memory of that night is so cringe you’ll never ever find me sexy again,” Brock adds dryly, still a bit embarrassed about it, and maybe he always will be.

“Hmm,’ Jose pretends to think. “Hmm, lemme think about it.”

He runs his hand down the inside of Brock’s thigh.

“Nah, that ain’t gonna be a problem,” he squeezes his knee, grinning when it makes Brock twitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout outs to Natalie and the Prime Minister at the end of Love Actually for the airport hug attack image inspiration :)
> 
> .
> 
> I am really struggling with loss of work due to COVID 19. If you enjoyed this story, or any of my writing (or hate it but feel like doing something nice today!) please consider [sending me a digital cup of coffee](https://poppedthep.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> If even half the people who see this did it, it would make a huge difference! 
> 
> If you can’t or don’t want to, that’s cool. People here are the best. You are totally welcome to continue enjoying my stories no matter what!


	2. The Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny moment of Vanjie/Aquaria in this chap because we've been told it's canon and I lowkey ship it! If anyone wants to write Vanquaria fic I would not be mad at all.
> 
> .
> 
> I am really struggling with loss of work due to COVID 19. If you enjoyed this story, or any of my writing (or hate it but feel like doing something nice today!) please consider [sending me a digital cup of coffee](https://poppedthep.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> If even half the people who see this did it, it would make a huge difference! 
> 
> If you can’t or don’t want to, that’s cool. People here are the best. You are totally welcome to continue enjoying my stories no matter what!

1 Oak this time is night and day from last time Brock was there, feeling nervous and out of place.

This time he’s getting ready with Jose in their penthouse hotel suite. Jose is very little help with Brock's outfit choice. He hums approvingly at everything Brock puts on, keeps telling him he's a snack.

This time he's making sure the door locks and following Jose down the hallway checking him out from behind as he chats on the phone to his agent about a script he read on the plane.

This time he's feeling him up in the elevator down to the car. Just a little. Hotel-appropriate.

Jose is handsome and bare chested tonight in a sheer black lace open shirt and tight gold ripped jeans with necklaces hanging down in a tangle, light dusting of highlight on his cheekbones. He looks like an absolute snack. Brock can already feel his hands itching to ruin him and they haven’t even started drinking. He leans against his back in the elevator, picks imaginary lint off the shirt just for a reason to run his fingers across the lacy fabric on Jose's warm skin.

It’s so nice having a boyfriend when you’re in the same city. Knowing you can have as much sex as you both want with someone you think is very sexy. For someone who used to love the thrill of the chase, the game of seducing, Brock has really come around to the comfortability of starting the night knowing who you’re going home with, finding new ways to seduce within that. 

This time before they even head to the club they go for dinner at Philippe with Rihanna and Edward Enninful. 

“Brock!” Rihanna shouts, eyes lighting up, when she sees them, her Baijan accent making his name sound magical. She kisses his cheek, so warm and welcoming, hugging him tight like an old friend. He can’t help beaming into her shoulder. 

"Boy, you get prettier every day, I can't with you. I can't even look at him," she jokes, playfully shoving a palm in Brock's face. He lifts a shoulder and tilts his cheek, smiling coyly.

"Girl tell me about it," comes Jose's voice from behind him and he can just tell he's shaking his head with that fond look in his eyes.

"Where's mine? We need a extra," Rihanna jokes.

It's surreally like talking to Vanjie in drag. Not just their looks, even their energy and mannerisms are similar, echoes of each other, about the same height too. When Vanj is out of drag, they could be siblings. 

“And this one,” Rihanna raises her eyebrows at Jose who raises his eyebrows back, suppressing a grin, and then he’s jumping on her like she’s Brock and they’re hugging and laughing Jose shouting, 

“Biiiiiitch I missed you!” 

Rihanna shouting, “Bitch I missed you more!”

Philippe Chow himself kisses Rihanna on the cheek when they arrive, gives everyone else a warm handshake. Takes them to an atmospheric private room lit all around with candles, gorgeous exposed brick, walls lined with bottles like a wine cellar, deep red velvet cushions. He waves away the server who starts to approach with menus, brings them a huge selection of sharing dishes, bringing each one to the table himself and telling them about it. The Peking duck melts in Brock’s mouth, he could write poetry about it.

The wine is delicious too and unsurprisingly conversation flows easily. Jose and Ri are particularly animated, holding hands over the table, because it’s been a while and they’re so happy to see each other. 

They're gossiping about mutual friends, giggling about getting matching tattoos on their shoulders, and Brock squeezes Jose's thigh mindlessly while he talks to Edward. 

They’re meeting Edward for the first time tonight. He’s fun and instantly warm, like everyone Jose surrounds himself with. Only a little intimidating - not in himself but because of the power he holds. Brock centres himself, pulls on his smooth relaxed charm, patient and magnetic. Touches Edward's hand on the table when he laughs at his jokes. 

He didn’t know dinner would be such a networking opportunity. Ri just said she was bringing a friend. He’s come to learn any hang with Jose’s cool friends will likely involve opportunity to impress people he wants to impress, so he’s always ready with his A game. 

They get into a very exciting conversation about a potential drag queen feature in British Vogue, Brock warm with pride as Jose supportively prompts him to recommend Edward queens he thinks would be good for it. 

“Chil’, she your girl, she know everybody, and baby she can turn a look. Y’all think I got the X Factor? Y'all gotta see this bitch on the runway.”

Brock's shoulders shoot up and his head tilts coyly at the praise, eating up the attention as Edward looks at him with interest.

Jose grabs on to Edward's wrist and pulls him close, thumbing through pictures of Brooke Lynn doing couture shoots and runway on his phone. His PR, manager, cheerleading section and boyfriend in one. 

“You know Aquaria too right babe? She done British? I know that bitch been in Italia a bunch. Chil’, the two of them together would be _fierce_.”

Brock raises an eyebrow at him for that comment. He knows Jose is just trying to wingman him as a fashion queen by association to the editor of British Vogue who might already know Aquaria. But he’s also the only one at the table who knows Jose and Aquaria dated a year before he dated Brock the first time, in almost exactly the same circumstances, so he can’t help making the silent joke.

Brock has become friendlier than he used to be with Aquaria because she’s still close with Jose. They get on well enough, respect what each other does and find each other consistently sickening, but they'll never naturally be as close as Jose wants them to be. There's always a slight stiffness and distance in their friendship. They're too similar maybe. Or too different. Too much of an age gap. Maybe it’s their competitive streaks. Or maybe that's just how Aquaria is with people who aren't Vanjie.

If he was dating anyone else Brock might worry about how affectionate they are with each other, given they were sleeping together about as long as he and Jose were while friends and Aquaria is that warm and familiar with very few other people. She never stumbles over her words around him, and he makes her laugh til she snorts. In another life she might be the one sat here with him now.

But as it’s Jose, loyalty has never been a doubt in Brock’s mind. The boy in question shrugs and smirks,

“What? I know what I like.” 

Then he’s grabbing Edward’s hand like he’s a good friend, 

“Y’all gotta put her in touch with people for London Fashion Week baby. She can jump in on that, right? We wanna take a trip. We was in Notting Hill last year. Chil’, I gotta get me more of that Cadburys, bitch, you know I got a sweet tooth.”

Edward is as charmed by Vanjie as everyone always is.

“Oh yes babe, you two have to come. We’ll get dinner at Laylow with Vic and Elton and the Davids, they would _love_ you two. And you _must_ meet Katie and Nay.” 

Moss and -omi Campbell, Brock gathers from context, overwhelmed by this list. 

“Yas! Fierce! I gotta get a selfie with Naomi, Mama Ru will gag! Let’s make it happen baby! Call your girls, get this bitch on the runway!” Jose waves his hand like a fairy godmother as Brock watches in awe at how good he is at this.

He's been trying to do more modelling. Walking at London Fashion Week would be a dream and here Jose is making it happen for him just like he does his own career, the Vanjie effect by association. 

He’s such a great networking wingman. The perfect amount of irresistibly friendly and fun and keeping them on track to make shit happen. Daring enough to throw things he wants out there so charmingly people can’t help but say yes. 

"Hm, how tall are you babe?" Edward seems to be genuinely considering it, looking at Brock thoughtfully. 

Brock straightens, eager to pass muster. Rolls his shoulders even further back in his already immaculate posture, puts on his Brooke Lynn energy and pouts a little, thinks _serve catwalk model at dinner._

"She tippy top tall just right. Whatever you need, baby," Jose is brusque and enthusiastically nonsensical as Brock answers more sincerely,

"Six three."

"You've got the height babe," Edward nods thoughtfully, thumb on his lip. "But you are quite broad..."

There's the thing that's been worrying Brock about his chances for runway. Not that he gives a fuck what anyone thinks of him, but he knows what most runway models look like. There's a reason Aquaria has done more of them than him - they generally go more for her physique and age range than his. He's cute, stunningly gorgeous when he wants to be, and in pretty good shape, but he's inescapably a big guy. 

"Sure baby she a whole lotta woman. But it all look good. All tight and right. Got them titties real toned, you know what I mean?" Jose squeezes one of Brock's pecs and grins at Edward, who is chuckling.

"Me, I like my baby ass thick. You already know both my girls here got them strong thighs and they doin it _right_ ," Rihanna goes _mmhmm_ in agreement, winking at Brock.

"This day and age you want 'em broad babe. Broad beans, eat 'em up. Wide, pride, gliding side to side."

Jose babbles encouragingly, doing that thing where he just keeps talking nonsense until he finds something that achieves his desired effect. It can be a journey to get there, fascinating to watch. Bizarrely it always works. 

"I know y'all London fashion hos wanna be woke and inclusive bitch. Gotta be some bitches out there doin it for the big girls. Who we gotta talk to babe? I swear to you baby you ain't see fierce til you see this bitch work a runway. Y'all know I ain't gon lie to you, we friends now. I promise y'all any your girls wanna work with her, she be doing _them_ a favor. She a professional. Got that good work ethic, serve it on time, every time. Y'all know I used to work with this ho before I made him my man so bitch I _know_. She real pretty too. Look at this bitch." Jose's hand goes to Brock's shoulder and he rests his cheek on his other hand, looking at him with a mixture of fondness and awe.

"Chil' they gon have to put up barriers round them London catwalks, baby. The damn audience gon be tryna rip them clothes right offa her." 

Everyone laughs but no one smiles wider than Brock. Jose lets the playful business talk go just far enough that Edward is won over, really taking it seriously, listing designers who might have a last minute spot for Brock to walk, might be open to someone good looking but broader than average, before bringing it smoothly back to social chat, nudging them, 

“All right, put it in a email on Monday, bitches! Who gonna try this sorbet with me?”

Then during dessert he seamlessly puts Brock’s info in Edward’s phone, like a little genie. Gives Brock a delicious conspiratorial smile when the other two aren’t looking and squeezes his hand under the table. Brock kisses his cheek and whispers, 

“Thank you baby. You’re amazing,” in his ear. 

///

It’s a world of difference walking into 1 Oak with Jose. 

Holding his hip, people part for him, for them, Rihanna is looking over her shoulder to make sure they’re following and Jose’s hand is always on his elbow or the small of his back or he’s tucking himself under Brock’s arm - little gestures that leave no mistaking who Brock’s with and he’s treated accordingly. 

The superficial bouncer who read him for filth with his eyes last time nods, 

“Evening, Mr Hayhoe,” ducking his head when he passes, respect heavy in his tone. Brock didn’t give anyone his name but somehow all the staff have memorized it. 

The club manager approaches to shake their hands, fake laugh at their jokes, thank them for choosing 1 Oak tonight, tells them to let him know if they need anything.

Brock got a barber to the hotel to do his hair because he’d never get it to look this good himself and he has to keep up with Jose’s gorgeous mug, can’t be letting the couple down. 

He hasn’t had a show the past couple days so he has a decent amount of stubble that he’s let grow out. Enough that it makes Jose go, “Mm,” and get distracted running his hand over it. 

Brock is wearing very fashionable tight grey slacks rolled as far up his calves as they’ll go and a fitted shirt, open to mid chest, teasing the shape of his abs, with the sleeves rolled up. It’s a combo he took home from a magazine shoot and he feels hot and expensive and not even too old to be there when they move through the club flanked by security and all the young attractive cool people turn to watch them pass. 

As soon as they arrive Jose is on: Vanjie Time. Bouncing around like he’s floating. Dancing, chatting, making people laugh, working the room. As his own profile has increased Brock has gotten pretty good at that too but it’s truly next level amazing to see Vanj in his element doing his thing. 

Brock makes him a drink automatically when he spots the bottles in their area. 

Not because he’s whipped, not at all. 

He’s still a star himself and perfectly independent. He can be his own free person and also appropriately supportive. 

There's no way he could fade into the background when the quickest way to get Jose's attention is to say Brock's name, when Brock entering a room is the only thing in the world that fully holds his ADD attention span. He can get the drink ready and feel quietly powerful knowing he could make the guy who's commanding the room fall apart to a stuttering mess with one pointed look if he wanted to.

It just makes sense, being the slightly more organised between them, to get a drink ready for him while Jose is greeting everyone, so he can hand it off to him seamlessly, 

“Here you go baby.” 

“Thank you, Toes,” Jose smiles gratefully and puckers his lips for a kiss. Then nearly deafens Brock as his eyes dart over his shoulder, shouting before he’s fully pulled back,

“Bitch, you met my boyfriend? Girl you both so white you gon love him. You gon be best friends. Start a knitting circle together. He white as hell too, girl,” and drags Brock over by the hand to meet Taylor Swift. 

Happy tingles fill his stomach, still, at being introduced to Jose’s cool friends as his boyfriend. Even though this is the hundredth time. He loves how he never has to feel shy with him, no matter how intimidating the people they're with. Even when he's busy being Vanjie, Jose will make sure Brock is taken care of and has someone to talk to.

Taylor Swift smells like fresh laundry when they hug. She’s taller than he expected, taller than Jose when she throws arms around his neck and shoves his shoulder warmly accusatory, 

“Girl! Are you really not opening for Beyonce? You know that tour needs some Vanjie!”

“Aw, baby I wish I could. We already booked,” he slips an arm around Brock’s waist. Brock’s arm goes around his shoulder naturally but he’s already uncomfortable with this topic.

“I’m real bummed to miss it babe. That bitch better ask me again for the next one.”

“What are you doing?” Taylor asks, rightly mystified at what could be more important. 

Brock is embarrassed when Vanj answers, 

“We doin his show on Broadway,” he indicates Brock with a tilt of his head, clicks his tongue. “Broadway Babies, catch that.”

Brock had his pick of Broadway theatres for this year’s holiday run of The NutsCracker when he announced Vanjie was joining the cast. 

Jose is starting private ballet lessons in a couple weeks to get ready for it - right now he barely knows the difference between third and fifth positions. 

Not that it matters - his part is only a relatively small cameo, lending his name to give the show a popularity boost. Basically joining the cast for the sake of allowing them to spend more time together. 

Brock didn’t hear about Beyonce’s tour offer until Vanjie had already declined it. 

He was angry at Jose, couldn’t understand how he could put a favor to Brock above such an amazing career opportunity. 

Yes, it would have caused problems if he’d pulled out. They might have had to downgrade to a smaller Off-Broadway venue, or at least cancel some of the extra dates they’d added, possibly refund some of the completely sold out tickets. 

But who says no to Beyonce? That was taking ride or die to the point of insanity.

He had tried to get him to take it back, tell her he’d changed his mind, but Jose wasn’t hearing it. 

It got to the point that they were full on arguing over it. Jose shouting if he didn’t want him there with him for important things why were they even dating again at all and Brock trying to get through to him that it wasn’t about that, as touched as he was, loyalty is one thing but blind nonsensical loyalty could be potentially destructive to his career and he couldn’t just stand by and let him do that. Not when he cares about him. Not when his life, his reputation, is tied up with Brock’s own now. 

It was their worst ever fight. Worse than when they broke up the first time years ago. They knew each other better this fight, threw harsh character reads from their hot emotions more freely. For a couple hours he’d thought maybe they were breaking up again.

“Broadway babies, how cute! That’s awesome,” Taylor smiles unconvincingly, “Too bad about the timing. You couldn’t move your show dates with the theatre?”

“Naw bitch, it a Holiday show. All Christmassy and shit.”

“Right, right. And it has to be you in it? You don’t have, like, an understudy or something?” 

Brock wonders if Taylor’s ever been asked to tour with Beyonce. If she’s thinking how fast she’d snatch the opportunity if it was her.

“Girl, it's the holidays, bitch! I can’t leave my Twinkle Toes on his own for the _holidays._ I can’t be hauling my hooker ass round the world when my jush twinklin it up on Broadway!” 

Both sulking after the fight, Jose had confessed softly, tear tracks drying on his face, that it wasn’t mindless. He’d thought about it a lot and he was making this choice just as much for himself as he was to support Brock. 

He said he didn’t care if he’d be with Beyonce or the Queen of England, he didn’t want to be in random cities without him over the holidays again while everyone else got to be with the people they loved. He couldn’t do it, it didn’t feel right to him. Not if there was an option where they could spend them together.

Brock still thought he was crazy, and maybe self-destructive, but as long as he was doing it to make himself happy above any other consideration he couldn’t really keep arguing with that. If there was one thing Jose knew irrefutably it was his own mind and how he felt about things.

“Fine, he had sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s your choice. Do my show. We’ll be Broadway stars together, boo.” 

He'd opened his arms on the couch in resignation, letting Jose crawl gratefully into his lap, tightening them around him when he felt how much Jose was trembling against him.

“Thought we was breaking up there for a second,” his voice had been very small and shaky, mumbled into Brock’s sweater.

Brock had been thinking the same a couple minutes ago but he teared up at hearing it out loud.

“We’re not, we’re not,” he had promised softly, rubbing Jose’s back, kissing the top of his head, burying his face in his hair. 

He thought about spending the Holidays together in whatever gorgeous apartment they'd rent in New York. Seeing his boyfriend's face across the table at Thanksgiving dinner while he says what he's thankful for. Walking hand in hand around the Union Square Christmas market with hot apple ciders. Bowing hand in hand in front of a cheering sold out Broadway audience. Watching snow fall outside whatever huge panoramic windows they'll inevitably have. Snuggling under a blanket together on a couch by a log fire. He made a mental note to insist they get a place with a log fire.

Jose had a point, it all sounded very nice. It was very easy to get onboard with.

“Bey cool about it,” Jose shrugs to a surprised Taylor. 

“She a momma, a wife. She get it when you got a ho you love,” Jose blinks up at Brock sweetly. 

“She my girl. That bitch know what really important in life.” 

Taylor smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, not fully getting it. Brock doesn’t blame her. He’s only just starting to maybe get it himself and he’s in love with the guy.

“We talkin bout doing something next year maybe,” Jose leans in and grins conspiratorially. 

Taylor finally stops looking at him like he’s mad or unfortunately afflicted and squeals, claps her hands. 

“Bitch, stop, you know I can’t say nothing yet, it's too early.”

“I know it’s insane, by the way,” Brock feels compelled to point out, lest his new friend Taylor get the impression he’s some kind of controlling monster. 

“I didn’t ask him to do it at all. I actually tried to talk him out of it. I do try to tell him his work is important.”

Jose purses his lips when he looks up at him, “You’re important. Get that.”

Taylor, and everyone else in earshot, “awws”. 

Brock has learned frequent “aww” reactions come with the territory of publically dating Jose, cutest human alive. 

He can also be pretty cute himself, if he does say so himself.

At first it annoyed him, but it’s gotten to the point that he barely notices the “aww”s anymore.

So, yeah, he doesn’t begrudge little things like having Jose’s drink ready while he works a room. No one in the world is more loyal and supportive than Jose. He’s such a sweetheart to everyone else, he deserves to be taken care of too. 

Plus Brock still has a lot to learn about being a good boyfriend. If he manages to achieve a basic bitch supportive boyfriend stereotype, that’s actually not a bad start. 

There's so much more to Brock than a supportive boyfriend and no one acknowledges it more than Jose, who is both Brock’s and Brooke Lynn’s biggest fan and supporter. 

Although it was absolutely not a consideration in getting back together, his own fame has already skyrocketed by association with Vanjie. 

The first time they were pictured out kissing by gossip sites the news spread all over the internet and Brock gained two million followers in a week. Now he has seven and a half million. Take that, Bianca. 

The Branjie phenomenon was quick to revive, now on a larger scale. It's not at the level of scrutiny it was post-Season 11, because they share less of their relationship publically than when it was the storyline on a reality show, and because it's very obvious now what's going on with them and people are less intense when they're not imagining some kind of mystery they have to solve. But Brock makes appearances on Jose's show, and people still use the hashtag Branjie. Hundreds of tweens gush over them and make social media accounts dedicated to re-posting their pictures together. To a mainstream non-Drag Race watching audience, their relationship is what Brock is best known for, and he is known by a _lot_ more people. 

He can make more money than he needs now on social media brand deals alone, especially if he includes Vanjie in the post. Always happy to support him, Vanj will gladly pose with, re-post or comment on anything to make sure Brock gets his coins. If Jose sees a text from Brock asking him to retweet something he’ll do it right away, even on the side of a set, in the middle of filming.

Brooke Lynn can pretty much pick and choose drag gigs now, taking the ones she feels like and turning down the rest. Putting some thought into trying to match up schedules with Jose as much as possible, just as Jose thinks about where Brock is going to be before he says yes to a project. 

A couple years ago Brock wouldn’t have believed he’d include someone else so thoroughly in his plans, let someone else have so much influence over his decisions. 

But he’s learned his career is not the only important love in his life. 

Great as it has been, the way things are going with his life now, Brock's career might not end up being his greatest love when he’s old and looks back on everything one day. His romantic life had always been a second thought, a fun indulgence like deciding what to eat at a restaurant. He always thought his career would be his only true constant love, and life can really surprise you like that.

As well as boosting Brooke Lynn’s notoriety by association, Jose is so ready to talk Brock up to anyone, help Brock generously with anything he can, like he did at dinner earlier with Edward.

A couple weeks ago was the first time Brock brought up that he wants to do more modelling, mentioning it off-hand while they were lying in bed. 

Before he knew it Jose was rolling over and texting Marc Jacobs to get dinner with them. 

Now Brock is the face of his upcoming menswear collection for the Fall. He has the shoot for the promo campaign in two weeks and every time he thinks about it he gets giddy with excitement.

He loves Jose for who he is. He's attracted to him because he’s gorgeous, kind, charismatic, talented, hilarious, thoughtful, so loving, generally incredible - all the same reasons he initially fell for him years ago. 

But it is undeniably a fucking sexy bonus that his boyfriend can help make things like that happen. 

Having Vanjie as his biggest supporter and cheerleader makes him feel like he can do anything.

///

Jose is busy all night putting in face time with everyone. Brock doesn’t mind. He chats it up with everyone too. Although he doesn’t have Vanjie-level skills of working a room unless he's on stage, Brock can be deliciously charming and engaging one on one, his old superior flirting skills channeled in a more friendly direction.

Adele is _hilarious_. Between her and Tiffany Haddish Brock is crying actual tears, shoulders shaking, from laughing so hard.

He takes about a hundred selfies with Taylor, running around the VIP section to different corners to try find the best light. They look ice blonde perfect together and they each post one of the pics. Brock likes the one she posts, comments blue hearts, icicles and crowns on it, and his stomach flutters as he takes a moment to appreciate that he is out here looking stunning on Taylor Swift's main.

Antoni from Queer Eye is dangerously cute with deliciously flirty energy of his own and Brock is giggling close and pulling his shoulders up to his neck with a hand petting his abs, almost leaning in to his mouth, before he recognizes the danger and has to make himself step away. 

Jose is across the room dancing and laughing and he doesn’t think he saw, but just in case he floats over to pay him some attention. Wraps arms around his waist from behind, slides palms up his bare chest, inhales the top of his head, says, "Hi handsome," in his ear, leans down and kisses him. Resets his focus on what is most important to him through his tequila haze and the high of seduction energy that calls to him. 

Jose grabs his jaw and kisses back hungrily, stroking his thumb over the stubble, already a little drunk and loose. 

Brock asks the PA lady with the headset for some water. It’s definitely harder to control his flirty impulses when his head spins with a mix of Tequila, Vodka, Hennessy and Cristal. The way he interacts with everyone is flirty, which is fine, he'd hardly have a personality left if he tried to squash that completely, but there's a clear distinction he's had to make now he's with Jose.

He’s expecting a glass of tap water and laughs out loud when she comes back with alkaline ionised water from Icelandic glaciers in a glass bottle, serving him individual ice cubes with a little tong. 

Nina texts that she’s outside. He shows the phone to Jose and they both scream, “Nina!” 

Brock steps out to walk her in past security. No one should have to deal with the keepers of that guest list alone.

That same bouncer who looked him up and down like filth last time is saying, 

“Evening, Mr Hayhoe,” again when he passes, recognizing him even without Jose there. Brock bestows him a benevolent smile.

The PA lady with the headset is lurking at the entrance to VIP. She tells him there’s more water and more Patron waiting, asks if she can get a drink for his friend. 

Nina is bubbly and excited, looking ready to turn the party. She's giving the finger to everyone trying to look cool with a Lion King shirt that makes Brock smile. Jose does his usual, 

“Everybody, this my girl, Miss Nina! Everybody be nice to Nina!” when she arrives. Nina is delighted by the attention as a bunch of entertainment royalty flocks to introduce themselves. 

Brock isn’t super big on crowds, they tend to bring out his shyness, but he’s drunk and fun tonight. The music is good, the tequila is getting him right. He’s stopped mixing and is still getting a happy buzz but can think clearly enough to control the impulses that would hurt Jose’s feelings. He’s smiling with his tongue out and singing along loudly and badly to every song that comes on. Nina is at his side, arms around him, and Jose is across the room sparkling beautifully in the disco lights. Watching him be all charming and hilarious across the room Brock feels a like a human heart eyes emoji. Finds himself going over and floating on the edge of conversations just to be near him, playing with his fingers or his belt or the back of his neck mindlessly. 

It’s hard to feel socially awkward even in a big crowd of cool people when you don't have to worry about being the one to approach. Everyone is a friend already or knows your name before you’ve even met, coming over eagerly to introduce themselves, because Jose has been bragging about you so much they’re excited to meet you.

Sure some of it is probably fake and superficial, especially from the assortment of random beautiful up and coming models, actors, producers, musicians, photographers, bloggers who always seem to accompany the people he actually knows. But it’s all in good fun. Brock still has his real good friends. These new extreme social situations are just a bonus.

Jose floats by every so often for a quick kiss, leans into him for the reassurance of Brock's hands on him, catches his eye across the room and smiles confidently when he knows he's got Brock's attention. He checks Brock out more openly the drunker he gets, promises of later in his eyes.

It’s truly night and day from the last time they were here together, _not_ together, and he terrified Brock treating him just like everyone else.

Brock can relax and enjoy the music, glide over with feline grace and rub up against him like a cat in heat when a good song comes on. He can glance at Jose across the room and see his nickname tattooed across his chest through the lace of his open shirt. Grab Jose’s hips and pull him against him whenever he wants. Kiss his neck, press his lips against the bottom of his jaw, let himself squeeze the meat of his ass just a little, spread a hand on his abs, sway them together and rub up on him when Drunk In Love comes on and Jose holds his hand up like a sea captain scanning the horizon and shouting, "Where is she?!" beckoning him over to dance for him.

Much as he doesn’t want to be That Basic Bitch, Rihanna is very fun to dance with at the club. They grind up on each other so sexy Jose is wolf whistling from across the room, shouting, 

“Yas bitch! That my jush right there! My baby girls! Yas!” so enthusiastically Brock’s surprised he’s not throwing money. 

Jose has his arms around two people, tugging them down so they’re at his level. When the light catches his chest and the chains around his neck, he kind of looks like some type of sexy pimp. 

Nina dances with them too, more Disney than stripper, but in her element, shouting, 

“Girl, I know you...!” as soon as she spots Ri. 

Adele gets in on the dance party with her two cool London friends and she is so fun to dance with. Her gravelly laugh cuts over the music, right up there with Vanj for life of the party. She spends a good half hour teaching Nina to do an impression of her, making everybody crack up laughing. Brock does bad British accents with her cool friends. One of them is wearing sickening sparkly silver eyeshadow and Brock strokes her eyelids in wonder. The other one asks if he's on Molly. Nina cackles and hugs him around the waist, telling them, 

"No, sweetie, that's just Brock."

Jose floats over to join them. He makes eye contact with Brock a couple feet away and starts winding his hips, backing into him ass first, saying, "beep beep beep" like a truck reversing.

Brock holds his arms out for him and they end up in a dark corner, Brock against the wall and Jose against Brock. He's perfected the amount he needs to bend his knees so their hips can fit together. So when Jose bends forward and circles his ass, it's rubbing right where Brock wants it.

He grips his hips tight. Jose's hips always look tiny compared to his hands. His grip makes Jose tip his head back and look up at him and say, "Mmmm," smiling, pouting for a kiss. He pulls Jose's back flush against his chest and slides his whole lower arm around his hips, keeping them pressed together, and they start body rolling together, bodies following each other. 

It's absolutely delightful but of course they can do this at home later, and they can't keep Vanjie hidden away from his adoring public for too long, so after a song and a half they have a teasingly short kiss with lots of tongue touching, and drag themselves back to the group. They dance together with everyone else, switching off who is grinding up on who, both kind of competitively wanting to be the ho.

When Rihanna's 'Work' comes on and she and Jose scream. Jose runs in a circle snapping above his head and they clear a space on the floor. They get in the middle and look at each other grinning and start doing a routine they both seem to know already, that Brock vaguely recognizes from the video. People cluster around to watch, gagged. Everyone in VIP is living for it and even the crowd in the club outside their section tries to get a glimpse. 

The two of them do shoulder rolls and booty rolls in unison. Spread their legs, wind their hips, drop low, in coordination, looking perfect, like a music video. 

“Come on, choreography!” Brock calls appreciatively.

Brock has been dancing all his life and he'll never have the musicality, rhythm and fierceness that innately flows through Jose's strong little body. It's one of the things he both envies and admires most in him, maybe even more than his humor, kindness or social skills.

"Girl, fierce! You still got it!" someone calls to Rihanna. She smiles magnanimously over her shoulder.

Another person nearby shouts, “Yas work that ass Vanj!” 

Jose snaps above his head appreciatively.

“Everybody thank my man,” he gestures grandiously to Brock who is bopping and shaking his butt nearby and beams happily at the attention. 

“My baby put the arch in my back, bitches” he hits a pose exaggerating the arch and then pussy pops, nudging Rihanna and they crack up laughing. Brock’s pleased grin turns to a blushing laughing shake of the head. 

Vanjie gets hit on a _lot_.

Brock gets hit on frequently himself. It's always a challenge to avoid slipping into old habits with it, but he's getting ever more skilled at turning them down, even the cute ones, in a way that appeases his man, while still being as sweet and friendly as he wants to be.

It’s insane though how many people try to openly flirt with Jose in front of him. Even though it's common popular knowledge that they're boyfriends. Even if Brock is literally next to him with an arm around him.

Jose kind of loves it, the little drama queen. He's never really been much of a flirt with people he's not emotionally invested in, but he relishes in yelling, 

“No thanks, ho, I’m taken!” or purring, 

“I don’t think my boyfriend would like that,” faux sweetly, wrapping his arms around Brock.

Aquaria stops by briefly late in the night with some of her club kid friends. Half boy, half drag, half naked, all gorgeous. Brock didn’t even know she was invited tonight. That must have been a private exchange, off the group thread. 

They’re on their way to a party (and what kind of party starts at 1am? Kids these days, Brock despairs) so they don’t stay long but she makes her mark before she leaves, tearing up the dance floor with Jose, Rihanna and Adele. Kissing both Brock’s cheeks and saying, “Hey girl!” But otherwise pretty much ignoring him in favor of getting excited over other people. 

Brock benevolently looks the other way when she kisses Jose goodbye on the mouth. 

Her mouth is closed but it’s longer than a peck, right on the line of friend-appropriate, her hands posessively around his neck, holding him in place. Jose leans into it for a millisecond, hands on her waist, familiar and tipsy, before he nudges her away, shaking his head and tutting with a chastising look that still manages to smoulder with affection.

She laughs with an openness and ease Brock rarely sees in her around anyone else, 

“Shut up, you dumb bitch. Love you.” 

She smacks his ass, which usually pisses him off, even from Brock sometimes, but he’s shaking his head and smiling with warning eyebrows raised. 

Ninety nine percent of the time Jose never shuts up but he’s suddenly gone all quiet and shy like he gets around Adore Delano and Jake Gyllenhaal that time they met him at the Golden Globes. Looking fondly and blinking extra, acting like he’s pursing his lips when it’s really a pout. 

“Get outta here whore,” he murmurs eventually, soft and sissy.

She grabs one of her club kid friends’ hands, slides an arm around another’s waist. 

“See you Sunday!” she blows a kiss over her shoulder as she struts away. 

It’s not ideal but it doesn’t _bother_ bother him. 

Brock would rather keep the little pieces of freedom he’s won for himself and be okay with it than make it a thing. He could shut it down if he wanted but then he’d have to agree to police himself just as strictly in return.

He’s confident in his relationship. 

Maybe in twenty years when he’s really over the hill and bald and Aquaria’s still a nimble little snack he’ll worry, but right now, he’s confident.

How could he not be? Being around Vanjie makes you feel confident in everything.

Although he brushed it off as fine when Jose asked, Brock was secretly a little worried about coming back to this club, scene of by far one of the most embarrassing panic attacks of his life. Didn’t know what it would feel like, if it would trigger bad memories. But although the place looks the same it’s totally different this time. 

This time he leaves the club blowing goodbye kisses to Adele, with an arm around drunk Jose, who is yelling at her,

"Text me, bitch! I'ma take you for them veggie spring rolls! They gon change your life babe!"

Brock shields him tight and protective against his side as they stumble through paparazzi flashes into the car.

And fine Brock might be a basic bitch but it feels very fucking cool to escape the cameras to the dark and quiet behind tinted windows.

This time he gets to go home with him, Jose so close against his side he’s half in his lap. The warmth of his body pressed there, his hand squeezing Brock’s inner thigh. His full lips in the corner of Brock’s eye as he pouts up at him. Sloppy kisses on his neck, both of them drunk and grinning like fools.

Jose says to his driver, 

“Luca, baby, can you turn that radio up real loud and pretend like you can’t hear nothing? Thank you babe,” and slides the driver partition up. 

Drops to his knees behind the blacked out windows, making Brock think of that Beyonce song until he can’t think at all because Jose is placing hot open mouth kisses on his dick over his slacks. 

He thought he was pretty drunk but apparently his dick is not because it gets hard _real_ fast.

Brock has less than ten seconds to drunkenly dance around the thought _should we really be doing this here?_ before Jose is unzipping his slacks, pushing aside his jockstrap, taking him deep in his mouth and his head is rolling back against the leather of the seats as he feels himself hit the familiar soft back of his throat.

His hips lift off the seat and Jose has to press them back into it so he doesn’t gag. 

He strokes the back of his head, the soft skin behind his ear, whispers apologies, tries to hold still but he’s drunk and his boyfriend’s mouth is so hot and wet and perfect and he’s blinking up at him like sin. 

Head lolling back on the seat, drifting in drunk blowjob bliss, Brock spots a McDonalds through the window and pauses in fucking his boyfriend’s face to ask to make a detour for fries. 

Jose sits back on his knees pursing his lips. 

“Bitch, if you thinkin about fries right now I ain’t doing this right.” 

“No, noooo, you’re amazing baby. I’m just drunk,” Brock slurs hastily. 

He runs a hand over Jose’s hair, strokes his jaw, pulls him up into his lap. Kisses him deeply. Feels Jose’s hand wrap around his dick while they kiss, and keep pumping as he rolls the partition down just an inch to ask Luca to stop at McDonalds. 

By the time they've pulled in he's wriggled out of his pants and is straddling Brock's lap in just an open black lace shirt, trying to get on his dick. He can only get the tip in because he's drunk and they haven't done anything to warm him up tonight, so he's cursing softly under his breath. The alcohol kind of helps though and he balances on Brock's shoulders inching down it while Brock watches in tipsy awe with his hands on his waist. He's doing very little to help but Jose doesn't need it, could fuck him beautifully all by himself if he left him to it. 

It's about then that Luca very apologetically rolls the partition down an inch to let them know they're up next at the window. 

Luca gives their order because they’re both too drunk and disheveled to risk being recognised. 

He passes the bags back and Brock tosses Jose's underwear at him. 

"I don't wanna look at that while I eat."

"Somebody order a extra sausage with their meal?" Jose wiggles his eyebrows ridiculously, leaning back spread across the leather seat, his fat dick spilling out of his slowly pumping fist.

"Wasn't me. Wanna hop out and go ask inside?" Brock teases, grins and shakes his head like _what am I going to do with you?_

"No!" Jose gasps, loud and high and indignant, hits Brock, but pulls his underwear on before biting enthusiastically into his veggie burger. 

As they drunk-shovel delicious salty golden grease into their mouths Jose keeps leaning into him to whisper all the filthy ways he wants Brock to fuck him when they get back to the hotel. Brock has to bat his hands away from his dick because they’re now covered in ketchup. 

They actually pass out asleep minutes after getting in, fully clothed, on top of the covers. Jose curls into him, kisses trailing off as he starts softly snoring, and Brock knows he really is getting old because junk food and cuddling might be just as satisfying as if it had been sex. 


	3. The Long Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I change tenses a bit in this chapter because I’m touching on a broad time range of past events and generally prefer to write longer chunks in present tense - so I tried to transition to write sections of the past in present tense - apologies if this is jarring/confusing! I put a /// where it changes over to the past, imagine there's one of those soft fades and cascades of music there that signifies a dip into memories!

Jose has to wake up ungodly early to go interview with Good Morning America to promote his upcoming movie. They’re jerked rudely awake by the hotel phone with his wake up call. Brock feels like a grumpy cat, groaning and burying his head in the pillow as Jose answers.

His new movie is big budget, high stakes. It's getting a worldwide theatrical release. After the success of his Netflix movie, which became the most streamed content ever on the platform, another new record set by Vanjie, the studio tapped him to star in it without even having to audition, seeing the attention he could draw in dollar signs. He'll be the first reality TV star to star in a big blockbuster mainstream movie. Every time Brock thinks he couldn't be more proud, Vanjie manages to amaze him even more. 

Brock saw a rough cut of it weeks ago with Jose whispering in his ear throughout at a private screening. It’s so funny. Jose is charm incarnate in it. His character is basically him, and you can tell he's ad libbed around a bunch of the lines. Rihanna is playing his sidekick. He knows people will love it.

It’s already being hyped as the blockbuster of the summer and Brock couldn’t be prouder of Vanj. Is so excited to spend the next couple weeks standing by his side at premieres in cities around the world, watching him shine.

Doesn’t hurt that he’ll get to shine brightly himself in a buffet of stunning designer tuxes to show off to hungry cameras. He’s even contemplating doing some red carpets in drag. He has so many looks that would be sickening on an international red carpet.

He asked Jose if that would be okay or stealing focus and got an easy shrug, “Whatever you want, baby.”

The good thing about your boyfriend being Vanjie is he’ll never get competitive with you because you could do anything you like, it’s impossible to steal focus from him. He’s also your biggest fan, as likely to be gagged by your outfit as his own.

Brock is excited for the premier parties too. Jose is slightly over showbiz parties by now, preferring something genuine with friends over an event where he feels like he has to be 'on', but Brock isn't as jaded by the glamor of it all yet, the beautiful and interesting people in gorgeous settings, the chance to be one of them.

For the movie's wrap party they flew everyone to a villa in Barcelona. There was a gorgeous dinner with thank you speeches and gifts for the cast and crew. Jose's speech made everyone cry laughing. Brock beamed up at him and Jose glowed when he caught his eye. Rihanna leaned across Jose's empty seat and put her hand on Brock's whispering,

"Baby the way you two look at each other..." with a hand on her heart, shaking her head.

Brock's heart flipped and he squeezed her hand, linking their fingers. Couldn't stop smiling.

After dinner there was live salsa music. Jose was in boy clothes and had his assistant Jasmine go get him a pair of heels so he'd be the right height to dance hip to hip with Brock. The weather was perfect, warm with a breeze. The mood was so celebratory, everyone on a high and excited about the movie. The songs got slower as the night went on until they were just swaying together, Brock's hand on Jose's lower back, leaning down every couple seconds to place a kiss on his boyfriend's jaw, shoulder, lips. 

Apparently for the press tour they’ll be flying between locations on a private jet, financed by the studio. Brock has booked the entire four weeks off, ready for the vacation of their lives.

Well, Jose will be working hard, and he’ll be tagging along helping. Vanjie has Jasmine and Jason and a whole team for actual help but whenever he’s there Brock tries to be supportive in the way he’d want someone to be for him. Gets him snacks, holds his purse if it's not strapped somewhere on his body as part of the outfit. Brushes strands of his wig in place if he's in drag. Even just squeezes the tension out of his shoulders, arms ready to wrap around him for emotional support and comfort when he’s drained from being ‘on’ at a ten for hours.

He can tell Jose appreciates it, even when he’s too exhausted or distracted to tell him so himself in words. Even when he’s so tired he gets snippy and argumentative and bossy, only to apologize softly half hour later when his brain catches up with his mouth and he feels bad.

Brock tries to be there for all the really important stuff. He can see it in him how his presence helps Jose. How even just Brock's hand on his hip, Brock's formidable magnetic attention focused around him, is gravity enough to ground and soothe him when he's having a stressy moment or help him focus his ADD energy. 

Sort-of work aside, though, it’s going to be a hell of a vacation. Brock has already stalked the infinity pool at the Marina Bay Sands where they’re staying in Singapore on Instagram and is practically salivating over it.

For a life that’s already incredible beyond belief, Brock sure does continue to get luckier and luckier. Truly living his rich bitch fantasy.

Also, knowing how handsy Jose gets in an executive car, he can only imagine the mile high club situations they’ll get into on a private plane.

The time he was away making the film was tough for them, though.

/// (*this is the one where magic dust falls and clouds part and we go into the past*)

It’s an action-adventure comedy and a lot of the shoot is on location in Hungary, Croatia, Iceland, Jordan. The rest is shot at Pinewood studios just outside of London. All in all it keeps Jose away for the better part of eight months. Largely in locations that don’t have a lot of drag shows.

It comes along just a few months after they’ve gotten back together. Ink still drying on the tattoos. The lead they had dropped out and they're almost ready to go so shooting would start almost instantly once he signs on.

Jose almost turns it down, worried it will be too much for them. Already ready to prioritize their relationship before anything else. Says if it’s meant to be another big movie will come along but he won't get another Brock.

Brock convinces him he’s being crazy, that it’s an amazing opportunity, and while he's so grateful Jose's giving him another chance, he's honestly not that special. If there's anyone there is only one of, it's surely Vanj. Brock convinces him to do it and that they can do long distance better this time. They can make it through.

He schedules week-long breaks in his gigs to visit. Not having to factor money in makes it easier. Plus he’s been doing drag for years. He’s not a thirsty young queen who takes every gig he can get anymore, has started to become more discerning anyway. Especially with the professional connections he’s made since getting back with Jose, he’s trying to book less drag gigs to keep himself available for other opportunities.

The more he misses Jose his visits stretch longer, approaching two weeks. Once, in London, three.

It’s cool to visit set and see a movie being made from an insider’s perspective. The experience of being on a huge film set is sickening, a whole other beast than Drag Race. He gets to sit near the directors at the monitors and watch everyone do their thing, experience the surrealness of meeting Jose’s stand ins and stunt doubles.

Evidently Jose raves about Brock here as much as he does everywhere else, because everyone he meets, from the runners to Jose’s costars, greets him with a friendly knowing smile. He can’t be annoyed at it because it’s so nice to be greeted so warmly by strangers, to have to put in so little effort for everyone around you to love you by association with the world’s most loveable.

Jose's character has a love interest in the movie. The first gay love interest in a big blockbuster action comedy. As if Brock wasn't already proud enough of the trails his baby is blazing.

It's nothing explicit, the studio has kept a purposefully light hand with it, but they are committing to putting it out there which is awesome, and there is a kiss at the end.

His love interest is played by Chris Hemsworth. He's a lovely guy with very down to earth chat when they hang out. He looks eerily reminiscent of Brock from a distance. If Brock watches them shoot and looks away from the monitors, he can just see his boyfriend with a tall muscular blonde. Though Chris is more ripped than Brock has ever been. Brock gives him a friendly massage one day when they're sat watching and Chris is complaining about a stiff neck, and feels muscles on that body he didn't even know existed.

Although he's relaxed his attitude towards Brock flirting, Jose very rarely flirts himself, so Brock never really has the opportunity to get jealous usually and it's bizarre how he feels a tickle of jealousy start looking at them film their kiss.

Even though he knows it's purely a work situation. Even though Jose comes over to him when they wrap the shot and break. Stands between Brock's legs, puts his arms around his neck. Asks him if it looked good and tells him he needs help to practice, leaning up and kissing him thoroughly. Brock knows it's dumb but he's filled with appreciative warmth at that. 

He hears a wolf whistle and Chris laughs as he passes with a coffee. As far as Brock knows, Chris is completely straight. His wife and kids have visited set and they've all gone for dinner together. Nevertheless he claps Brock on the shoulder and winks, telling him he's a lucky guy.

Jose looks surprised, but smirks, pleased. He smiles even bigger when Brock replies, 

"Oh, I know," and kisses the top of his cheekbone. 

The studio told them to expect some potential backlash from conservative groups on social media when the movie comes out. Brock has started thinking of clever Twitter comebacks because he knows Jose is going to get too overwhelmed if people say provocative things and he'll have to help him respond appropriately.

It's ironic that Jose taught Brock how to use Twitter and now he's more comfortable on it than his boyfriend. He has Vanjie's twitter account on his phone. Jose will often text asking him to tweet a couple things for him when he feels like taking a break from it.

It's hilarious how Brock can be praised for the same gif he's mocked for by his fans as Brooke Lynn if he tweets it as Vanjie.

When they shoot on location, the gorgeous locations are incredible bonus vacations Brock gets to explore. Mainly during the hours Vanj is working. They spend most of his time off in, or near, the hotel bed. On slow days when Vanjie is waiting around a lot to shoot Brock will spend the day with him in his trailer watching movies or reading on the couch while Jose snuggles into him looking over his lines. If it's a day he's busy with scenes anyway, Brock takes the opportunity to explore.

Occasionally they leave bed and venture out for dinner or drinks on Jose's time off, with a few of the people Jose is close to in the cast or on the crew. He's bonded with the director and the ADs, as well as Chris, and of course they hang with Rihanna often. Sometimes rather than go out she'll come over to their hotel room in pyjamas and get in bed with them, teasing that the room smells like sex - which is honestly probably accurate. Hanging with her is like hanging with two Vanjies - occasionally overwhelming but always fun. The three of them will order delivery, watch a movie, paint each others' nails, go down to the spa and giggle in the jacuzzi.

If Brock visits when they're at the studio rather than on location, he lives his London fantasy in a cute apartment production gets Jose in pretty Notting Hill.

He soaks up the ambiance from all the old buildings, browses the market a block from their colorful door on the weekend in fuck-off black shades and feels like Julia Roberts. Although he supposes technically since he’s here with his movie star boyfriend, he’s the Hugh Grant in this situation.

A surprising amount of his and Jose’s relationship involves arguing over who is the Julia Roberts in any given one of her movies.

He turns some of the London visits into little UK tours for Brooke Lynn, delighting the UK fans, and the UK promoters. The same ones who kept him waiting to hear if there was space on Heels of Hell less than a year ago are begging to book him. It makes him feel less guilty about staying longer. His workaholic perfectionist brain gets antsy if he stays in vacation mode too long.

///

It’s definitely hard to be fully long distance for so long. The visits are great but they spend a lot of time apart.

The first couple times Brock texts that he misses him, Jose shows up within twenty four hours for a surprise visit. Stays just long enough to fuck Brock into next week and then he's off again, sometimes jumping in the shower and heading out right after the last orgasm, not even staying to sleep.

The first one was a wonderful surprise. It’s definitely amazing Jose is in a place financially and with his career where he can do it. God knows what he tells set to get them to let him go for thirty six hours.

But as these visits keep happening Brock feels an edge of desperation to them. Like Jose is trying to make sure he gets to Brock first before Brock misses him so much he decides to have his fun with someone else instead and fuck it up.

As if he genuinely fears Brock might do that. Which is, frankly, insulting. Brock doesn’t care how promiscuous he used to be, he’s a person of his word and he’s given it. He wouldn’t do something like that without talking to Jose about it first.

It reminds him of when they were first dating and Jose wouldn’t leave him alone whenever they were in the same place. At first it was cute, then it became increasingly annoying.

As though just because Brock was a flirt and very free with his affection when he was single, just because he hadn’t been in a serious relationship before, Jose didn’t trust him to know the line between friendly and not okay like a sane independent adult. Had to be literally watching him like a hawk at all times.

It was patronizing and stifling and took all the joy out of being around him. Hastened the inevitable the first time and is something Brock really doesn’t want poisoning the good place they’ve gotten to now.

It blows Brock’s mind how Jose can have so much confidence yet get so insecure when it comes to his boyfriend, who he should feel the most secure with. It’s a little hurtful if he thinks about it too much. Brock has never done anything to make Jose believe he can’t trust him. Even when they had completely incompatible views on relationships, he was always totally upfront and honest with him about everything.

He knows a lot of Jose’s attitudes and assumptions are from the media and culture he was raised on. He’s definitely growing out of them the more he’s exposed to the world. But his views led to some unpleasant arguments the first time around. Inherently loveable as he was, Jose sometimes made himself very hard to love. Brock does not want that again. He hates conflict, tries to avoid it at all costs.

Besides the fact that when Brock says he misses him, sex isn't the only thing he misses. It's kind of offensive of Jose to assume that just because Brock loves sex that's all he means. Who doesn't love sex? It's nice to just _be_ with him, talk and catch up more intimately than over the phone. Be around each other in silence, enjoying his closeness without feeling the need to be saying something. Cuddle and see his smile in person and fall asleep holding him.

Brock raises it with him, gently and calmly, cutting it off before it grows into something uglier than it needs to be.

He promises Jose he can control his urges, he isn’t interested in living that lifestyle any more, that’s why he asked to be his boyfriend. And tells him to stop running out on him after sex like a whore.

Jose laughs it off, says Brock is being paranoid. But not long after, the urgent visits trail off to more sensibly timed ones, where he stays the night at the very least, or stays a few days, or waits for Brock to come to him.

Eventually Brock can tell him he misses him and get a simple, "miss you too" in return.

Brock gets that it’s hard for Jose to fight against his very nature, just like Brock is doing himself, and he really appreciates that he’s trying.

Brock still has the urge to kiss or fuck anyone he finds attractive, whether he misses Jose or not. Has to remind himself not to grab at pretty strangers and introduce himself with his mouth on theirs, especially when he’s had a drink.

He makes concentrated efforts to avoid putting himself in situations where it would be unmanageable. Goes home after shows, watches his drinks, or sticks with friends he can turn his affection onto. As a last resort he’ll make friends with some fun women at the club and kiss them on the mouth, just so he can get the impulse out, like an itch that needs to be scratched, without doing anything that will make Jose call him _disloyal_.

Even if Brock doesn’t mean a kiss any more or less on a wasted lady on her bachelorette than on a cute man he'd fuck if he was single, Jose’s culturally-influenced logic deems one fine and the other unforgivable.

It’s fighting his nature, but so is every time he makes his body twirl all 6”3 of him around on his tippy toes and he got himself to a place where he can do that, so why shouldn’t he be able to do this? His determination comes through for him as it has for all the goals he’s set his sights on knowing the prize was worth it.

///

Sex long distance is hard. Especially for someone as tactile as Brock, who uses touch as his main language to express everything from generic social affection to intense loving passion. Jose is more thought and imagination motivated. He loves getting off to Brock’s voice over the phone, can really go there when Brock describes things he wants to do to him.

If he can’t touch, Brock likes a picture or video. If anyone hacked Brock’s phone during the filming of that movie they’d find half his camera roll was pictures of Jose’s dick, his chest and abs, his pouty face, his booty, him sucking on things that are shaped like a dick.

His phone background is Jose from a photo shoot he did in Santorini. He's in an infinity pool at sunset in a sinfully tiny thong, facing away from the camera and looking over his shoulder, hands over his nipples like an instagram girl covering her boobs. He looks, honestly, magic. 

His lockscreen is Jose in a tux ready for the Oscars cuddling Henry who is wearing a little bowtie.

Jose’s is them on his birthday, Brock with his arms around Jose, kissing his temple while he beams at the camera.

His computer background is Brock in thigh high boots, a jockstrap and a tiny cropped vest that barely covers his nipples, legs spread, fingers in his open mouth, giving the camera sex eyes.

He says it gives him something nice to look at when his emails get boring and he doesn’t care who sees. Brock half hopes he doesn’t whip it out too much in meetings and half hopes he does because he looks like a very sexy model, if he does say so himself.

It's not just photos. Brock’s camera roll is full of boomerangs of Jose winking, pouting, growling, licking his teeth, sticking his tongue out, hands moving up and down himself, tweaking a nipple. Videos of him touching himself purring Brock’s name, narrating what he wishes Brock was doing to him.

The other half of his camera roll is him doing the same for Jose. His instagram is extra thirst trap-y since their long distance because he’s generating so many good slutty pics. He keeps the really explicit stuff for his boyfriend but there are some that look too good not to share with everyone.

Vanjie doesn’t comment any jokes on them about him being a ho, which feels wonderful. It's very likely he's just too busy to be able to watch what Brock's doing that closely, but it's possible he's making an intentional effort. Brock appreciates the space and the freedom and lack of judgement either way. It makes him want to reward Jose, take even sexier pictures just for him.

Although they're both busy, they're pretty good at communication.

Jose used to text Brock constantly when they were long distance the first time they dated. To the point that it was overwhelming and felt like admin to respond to everything. Now he'll occasionally do that if it's a day he's bored in his trailer, but even then he usually has about ten other things to be doing. Now he tends to respond to texts infrequently, with brief unintentionally abrupt two or three word answers more often than not.

They are good about calls though. They talk for hours a night sometimes, either on the phone or Facetime. Or first thing in the morning if they have to with their schedules. Sliding from chats into phone sex, and back to chatting after seamlessly.

///

They’re on the phone after Brock got hot watching a video Jose sent earlier.

It was him lying back on a pillow biting his lip and blinking softly at the camera, murmuring that he wants Brock to break open the door and ruin his pussy. It zooms in to a mouth watering shot of his hard dick as he strokes it, spreads precum around the tip with his thumb, tugs it tight and murmurs _all for you baby come get it, want your mouth so bad, so hard for you_. He ends it by coming on his stomach, blowing the camera a little kiss, saying,

“Love you. Send me something, sexy boy.”

Brock was at the venue getting ready for a gig when he got it, so he went to the handicapped bathroom and recorded a quick video. Close on his face, him pouting and serving sex eyes with his Brooke Lynn lips. Sucking on his fingers, pushing his lips around obscenely, telling Jose how much he wants his cock. He saw a retweet from those Cock Destroyers earlier and every time he sees something from them, Brock is reminded how much he enjoys luxuriating over the word cock all slutty.

He had to touch up his lipstick after but it was very well received.

A couple minutes after he sent it he got just a string of dead emojis from his boyfriend, followed by more articulate praise that came through while he was on stage. 

After the show Brock is at home stretched out on his bed out of drag.

He starts watching Jose's video again, able to fully appreciate his perfect little body now he has some privacy, and as it's picking up, Jose calls. Just their usual call to say hi, talk about their days, but the video is in Brock's mind and he brings it up before long.

“You looked so good in that video, Papi. If you had an Only Fans that would be it. Literally that. Can you imagine?”

“No! Fuck the fans,” Jose scoffs indignantly, so averse Brock almost expects him to squeal ‘ew’.

“This Only Brocks. Your eyes only, baby. You get that private narration. The boyfriend exclusive, boo.”

Brock chuckles softly, runs a hand across his abs, not with any purpose, just feeling comfy.

It's so different than his own mindset but he kind of likes the thought that no one else will ever get to see that. It's just his. It makes his stomach pleasantly hot. 

“That sounds good. What else are you gonna narrate for me?”

“What else you want baby?”

Brock thinks about it. “What are you doing right now?”

A soft sigh, all light and female in contrast to his gravelly voice, “Thinking bout you.”

That's a tone that means Jose wants to start something. The phone equivalent of sitting himself in Brock's lap and starting to slowly grind on him.

Brock smirks, stretching out comfortably, happy to give his boyfriend what he wants. 

“Yeah? What about me?”

“Your hands,” another sigh. “On my body.”

“Hmm. Where?”

“Everywhere. You know I love your hands," another sigh, this time full-bodied.

"Thinking bout you holding my hands. My hips when you fuckin me. My ass. Feeling my titties. Playing with my nipples," he sounds half shy saying it, all cute, even while his voice is dark with want. 

"Runnin up my legs. Pushing my ankles over my shoulder. Fingering my booty hole. Going down on me with that beautiful mouth baby.”

“That sounds nice,” Brock’s voice is already soft anyway but he purposely lets it get breathier, “I love touching you.”

He really does. Brock loves touching everybody, especially people he loves, extraordinarily tactile even with strangers, but touching his boyfriend is his favorite. From casual little touches to sexy massages. Jose's skin is borderline hypnotic to him, and his reactions are heavenly.

“Love sucking too you, Papi. I miss your cock in my mouth. You fill my mouth up so well,” he breathes sweetly.

Jose sighs, deep and needy. 

"Your fuckin mouth baby. That video. I'm still shook."

Brock giggles softly.

“You too. You looked so pretty in that video for me."

"Baby can you fuck me?"

"Sure, Papi. How do you want it?"

"No, you tell me. _Fuck_ me."

Brock almost laughs. Even trying to be submissive, Jose is very dominant about it. 

"Hmm," Brock thinks.

"Want you on your hands and knees for me. So I can eat you out, baby. Eat your pretty ass. Open you up with my tongue."

"Yesssssss," Jose pants eagerly. He sighs, voice cracking on the notes of it.

Eating ass is still not Brock's favorite thing to do but Jose _loves_ it so he's grown to begrudgingly like it a little. Enough to do it for him when he asks and sometimes when he doesn't if he's feeling generous.

It's easy to turn your nose up at it when you sleep with a different guy every night, but when you're a grown ass adult with a boyfriend you want to keep happy, whose ass is the most sensitive part of his body, there reaches a point where you have to suck it up and be a good boyfriend and eat a little ass.

It's Brock's own issues that put him off, absolutely nothing to do with Jose. And if the voice in his head that says it's gross sounds more like the voices he heard growing up than his own it's not really relevant - either way it's still there when the moment comes. Yes he's working on it, just like he's working on letting his boyfriend fuck him sometimes without feeling like he needs to shower for days afterwards, without tensing up so much he can't even enjoy it. If his opinions did get planted there long ago it makes sense it'll take as long to weed them back out.

Jose is sweet about it now they're dating again. When they were broken up he used it as ammunition, but now he's very patient with him and defensive if anyone else brings it up, even though it's his fault anyone knows at all. Even though he doesn't understand it personally, will dive tongue deep into Brock, rub his full lips everywhere, as standard in a routine blowjob if Brock lets him.

It's just the idea of it, not his particular ass. Jose's hygiene standards are almost inhumanly high. He's always extra fresh and clean, smelling and tasting good. If anything he's overly considerate, tastes _too_ flowery. There's really no need for him to be spraying perfume _there_. But he always does, along with everywhere else on his body, whether Brock is going down there or not. And if he knows in advance Brock's going down there he tastes distinctly minty on top of that, like his ass ate a breath mint. A clash of sharp clean artificial flavors over the subtler taste of his skin. If Brock has to eat ass, at least it's this ass. 

That's actually the one thing long distance sex is good for. He can give his boyfriend the thrill of an in-depth ass licking without having to actually do it.

"Gonna bury my tongue in you, baby. Lick you everywhere. Then I wanna fuck you like that, on your knees," he exhales heavily, letting himself imagine the scene.

"Wanna fuck you hard, make it jiggle. Smack your booty. Stroke my hands up your back. Suck on your neck....Is that okay?" He adds softly, pulling himself back from wild to sweet. 

"Yesssss," Jose moans encouragingly, panting into the phone. "That so good baby. So good. Tell me more."

Brock is getting carried away with the image of it himself, feels himself hard in his sweats. He trails a hand over it, teasing himself with his fingers, drawing out the satisfaction. 

“I’m so hard for you, Papi. Wish you could feel it.”

“Oh, baby," Jose takes a breath, apparently too overwhelmed to speak. When he does his voice is rough.

"Baby, I been dreaming bout that dick. Want you in me so bad. Wanna ride you. Want your hands on me right now.”

“I wish I could, Papi. Want to touch yourself and imagine it’s me?”

“Yessss. Talk baby. Tell me.”

“First thing I’d touch is your face. Kiss you. You're so pretty, baby. God I miss kissing you.”

A warm sigh he can tell has a smile in it. “Me too. I miss your lips. Miss your mouth.”

“If I was there right now you know where I’d put it?”

“Where baby?” and the familiar sound of him picking up his pace, finding his rhythm, the determined slap of skin on skin.

Brock talks about placing kisses along his boyfriend’s collarbone as he starts to palm his dick over his sweats, taking his time, precum on the tip already when he finally kicks them down and wraps a hand around it.

Jose babbles semi incoherent praise and encouragement, spurring him on. Heat rises in him and the whole room gets intimate around him. The low rasp of Jose’s voice is so soothing Brock feels like he’s melting.

Once when he was super tired after a gig Jose’s voice was so relaxing he fell asleep in the middle of phone sex. Woke up with a start seconds later to Jose shouting,

“Hello?!! Sleeping Beauty!! Really bitch?! Wake that fine ass up and finish sexin a bitch before you clock out for the night, whore!!” in his ear.

This time Jose's voice gives him pleasant tingles all over but Brock is very awake, nerve endings alight, dick getting harder in his palm.

"Put two fingers in your mouth. Suck on them for me, Papi," Brock commands softly, having talked through kissing him all over. "Imagine they're mine."

"Mmfmgh," Jose makes a pleased sound around his fingers.

Brock hears a faint buzzing sound over the phone which makes his dick twitch as he smiles. 

"You got your toys baby?"

"Mmhmm," Jose gasps, sound becoming clearer as he takes his hand out of his mouth. "My rabbit."

Brock closes his eyes and can picture him writhing on the bed. It's almost more fun to paint it filthy in his mind than see the real thing. _Almost_.

"Where are you putting it?" he asks, velvety. Tries to channel his seductive energy into his voice.

"Inside," Jose breathes, wrecked, "In my pussy."

"Mmm," Brock hums, pleased. "I wanna fuck you with it. Wanna lay you on your tummy and kiss down your spine and fuck you with it." 

"God, baby. Fuck. I need you. Brock. I want you so bad."

"I know baby, I know," Brock coos soothingly. He has the phone balanced between his ear and his shoulder, teasing his own lips with his fingers, biting into his free hand, thinking about biting the soft skin of Jose's shoulder.

"Put it in slowly and rub it on your sweet spot. Imagine it's me. That's what I'd do, baby," Brock purrs softly.

Jose responds with helpless noises, the buzzing gets a little louder, faster paced, then muffled, and Jose moans beautifully.

Maybe Brock is just too deprived of real sex because he hasn't seen his boyfriend in nearly a month, but the more they do this, he can see why Jose likes it so much. It's kind of a brutal tease. He finds himself going about life almost constantly turned on from the steady stream of pics, videos, chats, and not able to fully relieve it until the next time he sees his boyfriend. But as someone who loves seduction he can find the fun in that. He gets frustrated with how it makes him feel half mad with wanting, but it's fun doing it to Jose.

Jose used to be by far the better between them at talking dirty. He still does take charge of things when he feels like it. But he loves Brock doing this for him so much Brock has gotten pretty good at it if he does say so himself with all the practice he's had.

"I'm gonna fuck you with it. Push it in and out. Massage your cheeks, twist it inside you. Press it there. Til your legs are shaking for me baby,"

"They're sh...shaking now," Jose manages to gasp.

"Good baby. That's how I want you. Don't worry, I'm gonna take care of you," softly and sweetly.

He hears a needy little whine from the phone. 

“I'd pull you up to your knees. Which hand do you want me to jerk you off with?"

"Right," Jose says immediately. His strongest, the one steadily pumping his own dick right now. Okay, that's how he wants it? Brock can do that. 

"Okay, right. I'd wrap it around you really tight. Firm. Squeeze you a little," Brock is just improvising now, putting emphasis on each of the words, but Jose seems to be enjoying it, whimpering in his ear after each.

"I'd lick around your rabbit while I jerk you off..."

"...round my booty hole?" Jose asks, a note of confusion breaking through 

"Mmhmm. I haven't taken it out. Is it still inside?"

"Yeah." 

"Good," Brock smiles, "Good boy," Jose chokes on his own breath at that.

"I'd lick around it. Little licks, little circles. Give you kisses on your balls too. And behind. Press your rabbit into your sweet spot and press on it with my lips from the outside too."

He hears Jose murmur, _oh God,_ and keeps going, picking up the pace with his own hand, his breath coming shallow now.

"I'd suck on your balls, lick your asshole til you can't think about anything else but my mouth, baby," Brock purrs gently.

_"Fuck."_

"I'd suck you so nice," he pants a breath,

"Tug your dick fast and tight like you like it," another breath,

"Are you doing it now? Do it now for me baby." 

“Yes baby, fuck, that sound so good, fuck, I’m doing it. I'm so close,” Jose pants in his ear, voice cracking with excitement.

“Show me,” Brock breathes, half an ask, half a command, his own orgasm building fast.

Jose hangs up and a second later is calling on Facetime, mouth open, tongue out, small chest trembling with breathy moans, eyes half unfocussed with pleasure but seeking Brock out. He's on his knees, probably to get the angle to keep his toy inside him while he's holding the phone and jerking himself off. His head is tossing wildly, shoulders practically shimmying. It reminds Brock of when he's riding him and if it's possible he gets even harder. Jose rolls his chest as a wave of pleasure goes through his body and his jaw clenches, baring his teeth like he's growling. The tendons in his shoulder flex as his hand works furiously, other hand extended so Brock can see everything.

Brock extends his own arm too, tilts his head to get his face in the frame with his body. Pouts involuntarily as soon as he sees his little picture in the corner. Takes his hand off his dick for a second to run it over his chest seductively.

"Fuckin perfect baby. Fuckin beautiful," Jose gasps, shuddering, baring his teeth again as he grinds down.

"You too, you look so good," Brock breathes, focussing his most seductive energy out through his eyes, seeing Jose affected by it even through the phone.

He comes within seconds, head flinging back, body convulsing, shouting Brock's name among obscenities, panting at the ceiling. Brock bites his lip and comes soon after. The buzzing stops and Jose flops back onto the pillows, watching Brock finish eagerly, hand feathering lazily over himself as he comes down from his high.

"Mmm, that was _good_ ," he murmurs.

"Mm _hmm._ Damn, baby. You got me right. How you gon fuck me so good and you ain't even here."

Brock laughs lazily, pleased and Jose does too.

"You're amazing," he sighs, blissful. 

"You too, stud," Brock winks. Jose shakes his head at his cuteness. Blows Brock a little kiss.

"Love you."

"Love you more," Brock reponds instinctively, blowing a big kiss back.

He's heard that phrase and it just came out naturally, he doesn't mean it in any profound way. But Jose's eyes widen and Brock worries he might be reading too much into it. 

"Nah. That impossible," he says, suddenly all soft and vulnerable. 

"I'll fight you on it, boo," Brock smiles playfully and then quickly changes the subject, asking about what he's shooting tomorrow, before it gets more intense than it needs to be. Soon Jose is giggling telling him about how a bird pooped on Chris today. Smiling fondly at Brock as he murmurs nonsense about nothing and blinks wide eyed and adorable at the phone camera, lazily playing with his eyebrows. 

That particular phone sex leads to a visit from Jose a couple days later, a week earlier than he was expecting to see him. Brock looks up from his computer when the key turns in the door and he's barely gasped a delighted, "Hi!" before Jose is closing Brock's laptop and depositing himself in his lap, hands running all over him, rings on his fingers cool against Brock's neck.

"I was working on that," he mumbles, in between delicious hungry kisses, Jose starting to roll through his hips and into Brock.

He can't even pretend to be mad, can't stop himself sighing in pleasure, giving over to the command in his boyfriend's hips and following it with his body. He has acrylic nails on and they scratch against Brock's scalp when he cups the back of Brock's head and threads his fingers through his hair, opening his mouth and kissing him deeper. 

"Yeah? Well now you working on this," Jose rubs eagerly against him to demonstrate his point, and soon he's riding Brock so hard he can hardly breathe. 

He hums in contentment into Brock's neck afterwards, says, "I been thinkin bout that for days. I couldn't function. This long distance shit gonna kill me baby." 

Brock laughs and asks him if he brought his toys home, grinning, squeezing his ass.

///

They make a rule to never go longer than three days without talking, though they never go even one without a text, usually saying at least goodnight and good morning, asking how each others’ days were, how each other is feeling, sharing any funny or interesting things that happen.

Jose also sends him actual handwritten romantic letters. They come with envelopes full of little things from location he thinks Brock will find interesting or that made him think of Brock.

Brock does his very, very best to send back letters that are up to his romantic standards in return. Consults with more articulate friends for advice on wording. Feels like he’s in a high-stakes seventeenth century courtship.

When he struggles to gather enough thoughtful little trinkets to go with one of the letters, he encloses sexy polaroids of himself and cute ones of him and the pets. He smiles when in every hotel room or trailer he visits Jose has the polaroids taped up around his mirrors.

Brock sometimes gets daunted by who Jose has become. Vanjie has so much klout, is so respected by everyone, so revered both publicly and in the industry, it's reassuring when he gets little reminders that he's still just his Jose.

When Vanjie hosts the Oscars, Brock is overwhelmed. He goes as his date and it's an amazing experience and a super fun night.

But it's also so surreal to sit in the audience and look up at him commanding that stage, being so cool and charming, glowing with brilliance. Brock is filled with pride of course, but also a bit discomfited. So used to their dynamic where he is the center of Jose's world, it's dizzying to be reminded how much he is the center of other peoples'. And okay, fine, he knows he has a big ego but he can't help it. That's just how things usually are with them and it's so different outside their little bubble it's daunting how much power Jose holds. He forgets and it hits him hard when he's reminded.

His boyfriend is super busy that whole week, filming things and doing interviews and Brock hardly sees him, feels like an afterthought. When he does see him he's distracted or exhausted, barely able to take enough care of himself, let alone pay Brock his usual amount of attention and adoration. Even though it isn't intentional, he knows it isn't, it makes anxiety start to claw at Brock's chest.

Jose has to fly back out London to carry on filming right after, before Brock is ready for him to leave. He feels so insecure he nearly goes with him for a few days, but then he feels stupid for thinking that so he purposely doesn't go, but sits at home reading Jose's interviews and looking at red carpet and afterparty pictures of them on Getty Images trying to find one where he doesn't look so much like an egg and wishing he he'd gone with him. 

Only a week later Jose comes back for a visit. It's much sooner than the five weeks Brock was expecting and he's weirdly quiet, subdued, distracted, a change in him obvious the moment Brock sees him. 

Eventually it becomes apparent he isn't planning to tell Brock what's up without prompting. 

"What's wrong?" Brock frowns softly at him.

Jose jumps at the question like he's been caught out. He's making a protein shake and pauses, swishing the blender around, staring into it. 

"How you know something wrong?" he mutters distractedly.

"It's obvious, look at you," Brock says. Jose smiles a little, as though it's impressive that Brock can tell. It's not hard, Jose is an open book to everyone and Brock especially can read him even better than most. 

Jose sighs deeply and puts the blender down. 

Brock's mind spikes with panic, running through anything he could have possibly done to put that look on his face and coming up blank.

It isn't him, that he knows of.

That doesn't explain why Jose is unexpectedly here so soon and looking so sad.

"My Tia Angela," Jose says quietly, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt, "She real sick. Was. She passed away yesterday."

"Oh baby," Brock's whole body melts open and welcoming with sympathy.

"Come here."

Jose abandons his shake and comes over to him, shaking his head like he thinks he's being stupid, but letting himself be enveloped in Brock's gentle arms.

"I'm sorry," Brock sighs softly, heart aching for him.

Brock hates to see anyone upset, but seeing his favorite person upset is the worst.

His sweet little face was all crumpled with heartbreak and it's physically painful to Brock. 

"Thank you," Jose mumbles into his shoulder. "She was real sweet to me."

Brock holds him tight and Jose presses himself into him, clearly needing to be held. 

So Brock tugs him by the wrist over to the couch and sits down, opening his arms. Jose sits next to him and he pulls him across into his lap. Jose curls into him gratefully and buries his face completely in Brock while he holds him tight, strokes his back, kisses the side of his face and the top of his head over and over.

Brock is very good at comforting people. Sensitive and loving and great at hugs. He puts his whole body into them. Friends often come to him as their first choice for cheer up cuddles. Although it's horrible to see Jose so sad, it feels nice to be able to be there for him like this. To be needed and useful makes him feel important again.

After a couple minutes pressed tensely into him, Jose's body starts shaking and he starts sobbing.

Brock holds him tighter, rocks him a little, lets him cry it out, muffled by Brock's chest.

When he's calmed to just soft sniffles, Jose lifts his head up reluctantly and attempts a grateful smile, not quite meeting Brock's eye.

He gets so self conscious about crying. Even though he cries fairly often, even easier than Brock, he has a weird pride thing, maybe from the culture he was raised in, where he tries to hide it, keep it to himself as much as he can. Letting Brock, or anyone, see even a couple tears always feels very vulnerable. 

"Thanks, I needed that," he says softly, looking at Brock's chin.

Brock takes hold of his chin to tilt his face up, waits while he reluctantly meets his eyes.

"Any time boo," he says, soft and sincere. "That's what I'm here for. I'm so sorry baby," he kisses him softly on the mouth. 

Jose sniffles gratefully and smiles a vulnerable little half smile. Strokes Brock's cheek with his thumb and looks at him adoringly.

Seeing Jose not only trust him but actively seek him out, take a flight to him, to take care of him at his most vulnerable and in need, Brock realizes how dumb it was to ever fear being insignificant to him.

The guy at the Oscars, that's his boyfriend's job. _This_ is his boyfriend. And when he's sad and needs someone, Brock is his person. He came all the way home to see him, to feel better. It feels mean to feel good about that at a time like this, but it's so nice, such a relief to be reminded how much he does need him, no matter how cool he seems to everyone else. 

Brock hugs him all afternoon and they talk softly about Jose's memories of his aunt. He says he's going down to Florida for the funeral, LA has been just a stop on the way, and Brock changes his schedule around to go with him and hold his hand through it, Jose's eyes warm and grateful the whole time.

Brock is there for him in lots of ways.

When he has a bad day on set he'll let out his fears and frustrations over the phone. Brock empathizes and gives great pep talks, tells him how brilliant he is, suggests things he can do to get around mental blocks. Jose sometimes gets even more frustrated talking it out, but he listens reverently to every word of advice. In his eyes Brock is the most talented person in the world, so he always wants his take on things. That feels nice to Brock's ego, too.

Brock used to hate the thought of being obligated to somebody but he's a naturally caring person and, when it's genuine and not clingy, grows to really like the feeling of being needed, being the trusted person Jose goes to for support.

///

About half way into the eight month shoot they exchange keys to their LA places. Riley starts staying with Brock and the cats when Brock is home. Or Brock and the cats stay with Riley, depending if Brock feels like being in his own space or living his luxurious mansion fantasy and sleeping on pillows that still smell faintly of Jose.

The only danger with staying at Jose’s is at any given time Jose’s mom could call by. Brock loves Anabell, she’s as much of a sweetheart as her son, but it’s very embarrassing to walk into the kitchen naked and half asleep and be confronted by his boyfriend’s mom at the kitchen island sorting through the mail.

Jose bought his mom her own place nearby. Brock gets to know it well because he starts leaving Riley and the cats there when he’s away for gigs. But she stops by Jose’s with her key whenever she feels like and without warning.

After they exchange keys things feel more domestic. In a way that feels natural and practical, not scary or stifling. Brock still has all his freedom, but he helps Anabell out with some household things, like mailing Jose his prescriptions or letting the cleaners in, and when Jose gets back for visits at odd times he’ll let himself in whether it’s his place or Brock’s and slip into bed without waking him.

Brock discovers it’s the most delicious thing in the world to roll over in the middle of the night and discover his favorite warm body next to him. He hums in happiness and curls around him, wrapping him tight in his arms, snuggling into the back of his neck like he’s a kitty and Jose sighs with absolute contentment, reaches back to scratch a hand through Brock’s hair the way he likes.

Sometimes “love you,” or “missed you” breathed into the back of his neck, other times he just slips right back to sleep, breaths in synch. Forgets overnight and is pleasantly surprised by Jose’s warm weight on top of him in the morning.

///

Sometimes monogamy is challenging for him.

Especially with the long distance. Especially when beautiful people fawn over him at bars and on Instagram. Because they do.

Brooke Lynn is nowhere near Vanjie’s level of famous but he’s one of the most gaymous drag queens, and drag is increasingly gaining a wider audience, so clubs, and gay nightlife especially, is a minefield of people who want to fuck him, some of whom are very tempting.

Brock is beautiful, always impeccably groomed, and carries himself with an irresistible charm. He can dial it up or down depending on the situation, but in general the flirty energy he gives out is as natural and unavoidable as breathing to him, and people pick up on it and assume he wants them to make moves on him.

There are times he has to literally wrench his head away from a bartender who tries to give him a kiss along with his drink. Especially bartenders who knew him from before, when he used to do that playfully like it was second nature, like a greeting.

But he’s strong enough to stick with it.

Sometimes he’s tested but he quit smoking. This is easier than that. Easier than giving up junk food for lean protein and lie ins for morning workouts and normal human feet for busted bleeding toenails after pointe classes.

Brock is used to discipline, used to imposing restrictions on himself and sticking to following them religiously, without fail. As long as the prize in return is worth it to him, is something he 100% wants.

As soon as he connects the dots and clicks into that familiar achievement focussed mindset he’s felt comfortable in all his life, he finds the key to overcoming the urges.

As soon as he lets himself step back from a moment and think it through in terms of the longer goal, he always comes to the conclusion he wouldn’t switch back to the old freedom over what they have now. Something so special and surprising he hadn’t even known to want it, hadn’t even realized it could exist for him.

///

Jose is excited for their first Valentine’s Day as a couple, giddy that it’s Brock’s first one ever in a couple. He books his flight back weeks in advance, tells Brock to keep the whole day clear because he has the world’s best date planned.

Brock still thinks it’s a sham commercial holiday but he gets into the spirit for Jose’s sake.

He’s curious to see what the date is. Half excited, half stressed about whether he’ll be able to hold up his romantic end of it.

Jose never actively tells him when he’s being disappointingly unromantic, he’s just so easy to read, and Brock hates to see his little face disappointed.

Plus with all the choice Vanjie has now, almost everyone in the world ready to throw themselves at him, Aquaria sometimes smiling at Brock in a way that feels like she’s just waiting for him to fuck up, Brock feels a new level of pressure to keep his game up, make sure he’s keeping him fully satisfied. That comes completely from his own mind. Jose could look enamored over the way he scratches his ass, he’s so crazy about him. But Brock’s brain goes there involuntarily.

Unfortunately production changes his shooting schedule last minute and Jose is devastated to find out they’ll be apart for their first ever Valentine’s Day.

“It’s okay, Papi, we can have a Facetime date. I honestly couldn’t mind less, boo,” Brock insists over the phone the day before.

But he feels how disappointed Jose is. He does that pained, resigned sigh where you can hear every emotion.

Brock has to guess Jose’s email password to find out the contact info for production. Thankfully Jose is very predictable. After a few attempts he types in “fuc5B1tchez” and gets the info.

He texts the 1st AD, Louise, who he remembers going for dinner with in Croatia weeks ago, to ask exactly where they are going to be the following day, swearing her to secrecy.

They are in the middle of a desert in Jordan, as remote as locations get.

Well, no one ever said love was easy.

It’s hard enough cancelling his three gigs later that week with almost no notice. He has to make up an illness. Luckily nobody questions it. Brooke Lynn’s reputation for reliability and professionalism is unblemished. All he gets are well wishes, promises they’ll reschedule, as he flies out on an unreasonably expensive last minute flight, hires an unreasonably expensive guide to take him out to the remote location, having been advised by Louise the sweet AD that it’s unsafe to try to get there alone.

All so he can show up the morning of February 14th, texting Louise to come walk him through security, so he can knock on the door of Jose’s trailer.

His assistant Jasmine opens it and her mouth drops open. Brock grins conspiratorially, shifts the flowers in the crook of his arm.

He had to hand over far too much to get a big bunch of red roses from the airport on Valentine’s Day, and they haven’t completely survived the journey in tact, but Jose loves his romance very on the nose and red roses from his Valentine are very that. They scream tacky to Brock but that doesn't matter. He knows his audience. 

Jose is half visible in a chair at the mirror reading through a script, makeup team around him, in the beginning stages of getting ready.

“Who there babe?” He calls to Jasmine when her stunned silence stretches.

Jose turns over his shoulder to see what’s up and she whips around, covering the doorway with her body.

“Uh, you’re gonna wanna answer this yourself, Miss Thing,” she beams, excitement leaking into her tone.

Jose raises an eyebrow and pads over curiously in boxers and an open robe, makeup team watching behind him, blinking sleepily as the bright desert light hits him from outside.

His jaw hits the floor when he sees Brock there, completely gross in travel clothes he’s been in for nearly twenty four hours, but smiling wide, saying,

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

Jose is so shocked he can’t even speak for whole seconds, his mouth just moving up and down, head shaking in disbelief. 

He starts laughing that he’s done it, he finally shut Vanjie up. He doesn’t hand him the roses yet because he looks like he’d drop them.

Then Jose bursts into tears. Brock turns to smile at Louise but she’s crying too, watching them with her hand to her heart like a live romcom.

Brock starts tearing up himself at everyone very sincerely happy crying because of him. Shakes his head at himself for being so silly, wiping the tears away.

If he ever works out what it is about their relationship that has everyone so instantly invested on a personal level, he’ll do his best to stop it immediately.

With the steps up to his trailer Jose is slightly above him. He leans down and grabs his face, kisses Brock's mouth, hard. Wipes his tears on Brock’s neck. Completely crushes the already precarious flowers when he hugs him.

Pulls back and holds Brock’s face in his hands, gazing at him in wonder.

“Baby. _Baby_. Brock Hayhoe. You drug your ass all the way to the Middle East, to the desert so we could have our first Valentine’s together?”

“Yeah,” Brock feels bashful with the whole makeup team watching. Lets Jose caress his face in awe.

“What about your gigs?”

“Cancelled them,” Brock rolls his eyes at himself. “You were all sad. You’re more important that a bunch of thirsty lesbians in Akron, Ohio.”

“Fuck, I love you so much,” Jose strokes Brock’s cheek in wonder, Brock can feel himself swooning. He picks Jose up off the steps and swings him around in a circle. Jose laughs and kisses all over his face, neck, shoulders, everywhere he can reach.

“You unreal. You my baby. My fuckin Noah,” he rubs his thumb on Brock's cheek, looking at him with so much love.

And okay, fine, Brock is crying again, but Jose’s never outright called him his Noah before. It’s been heavily implied but this is the first time he says it. It’s a concept Brock’s not sure he even believes in from a dumb romcom. But it still makes him cry to hear Jose say he’s it for him.

“What I done right to deserve you?” Jose shakes his head at him in wonder, which is fucking ridiculous.

“Shut up, crazy,” Brock cuts that madness off. “You deserve the world. I’m just trying my best to give it to you.”

Jose blinks a smile through his tears.

“Look at us crying like a couple a homos.”

Brock laughs and Jose sniffs hard, wiping his eyes, pulling himself together.

He drags Brock inside, takes the roses and hugs them to his chest, not caring that some of the heads are falling off them at this point, and they’re all noticeably squished. Brock smiles fondly at him looking eagerly for a place to display them. The bouquet is so big it dwarfs him.

“You look good in red, Papi,” Brock says softly, and hearing that from him sets Jose off crying again.

Brock knows he is thinking of the first time Brock started saying that to him. When he was covered in even more red roses and Brock couldn't keep his hands off him, when it felt like they'd just discovered the world's greatest secret together. Maybe he's thinking how far they've come since then. Brock couldn't have imagined it if he'd tried to. 

When he has himself under control, Jose kisses him properly. Foreheads meet, then eyes, then mouths. Gentle and loving with passion that grows as he winds himself tighter around Brock, until Brock lifts him off his feet and the makeup team are whooping. 

So that had been a good idea.

Maybe Brock wasn’t so bad at being a romantic boyfriend after all.

He tries to remember to do things like that every so often because he knows how much they mean to Jose. His boyfriend is a very straightforward person and once Brock cracks the formula of what he wants from him, how to operate true to himself within that, it’s very easy to make him ridiculously happy with a bit of effort. Even if it’s a different thought process than what Brock would want someone to do for him, something that takes getting used to. With the freedom that comes with all the money and fame they have now it isn’t too hard to do. Brock can’t fundamentally change who he is, nor does he think he should, but it doesn’t cost him too much to make the effort to do things like that occasionally.

Turns out attitude is everything.

Little Vanjie in the Werq room on Drag Race was right, _If you want it to work it’ll work_ , and they do and it does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout outs to anon on AQ who mentioned that Vanjie said on a live he has a vibrator and asked for it in a fic request for inspiring that detail in the phone sex!
> 
> Also catch me adding in that mini essay justifying why ass eating is in here after that live because this bitch had already written this chapter and lives for canon! Ha.
> 
> .
> 
> I am really struggling with loss of work due to COVID 19. If you enjoyed this story, or any of my writing (or hate it but feel like doing something nice today!) please consider [sending me a digital cup of coffee](https://poppedthep.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> If even half the people who see this did it, it would make a huge difference! 
> 
> If you can’t or don’t want to, that’s cool. People here are the best. You are totally welcome to continue enjoying my stories no matter what!


	4. The And I -Oop

Just once, so far, it almost doesn’t work.

On Steve’s birthday Brock gets _incredibly_ drunk, because Steve is his very best friend, and very slightly fucks up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says on the phone to Jose.

“Whassit baby? Whasswrong?” worry breaks through the disoriented sleep in Jose’s voice and shit it’s five in the morning there. Brock didn’t even think properly, he’s so drunk and worried he just panicked and called, and that was probably the last time he’ll ever hear Jose’s voice so soft and concerned for him...

“I kissed someone.”

“What?” Jose’s voice is shocked and icy.

“I kissed someone. Fuck.”

“What? Like Nina? Steve?” Jose asks warily, nonplussed.

“No.”

“Like, for real?” he asks slowly.

Brock doesn’t want to answer.

“Yeah.”

“Who?” Jose’s croaky sleepy voice is getting colder.

“I don’t know, some guy. I’m so drunk. It was only for like one second and then I realized what I was doing and pushed him off me. Fuck fuck fuck baby I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m…” Brock's voice cracks and he starts full on crying into the phone, chest heaving with caught breaths, so sure he’s fucked it all up.

“Do you...like him? It something...serious or...?” Jose’s voice is raw, like it breaks his heart to even ask.

“No! No!” Brock answers quickly.

“God no. I don’t even know him! It just...happened and...fuck. I don’t like anybody but you baby…”

“Don’t play,” Jose cuts him off hard with cold fury.

Brock doesn’t dare say anything to that so it’s quiet for a few seconds, just the sound of his sniffling. Jose sighs.

“Where are you?” His voice is exasperated, a little softer at least but not pleased.

“Outside the bar. It’s Steve’s birthday. He’s h...here. We’ve been d...drinking since like…” Brock can’t speak as he hiccups around a sob.

“Yeah, yeah I remember,” and because Vanjie’s the biggest sweetheart with all their friends, even in the middle of this conversation he takes a second to check,

“He get the champagne and the card?”

“Yeah,” (hiccup-sob) “He,” (hiccup-sob), “Said,” (hiccup-sob) “Thank,” (hiccup-sob) “You,” (hiccup-sob) “That,” (hiccup-sob) “Was,” (hiccup-sob) “Really,” (hiccup-sob) “Sweet.” (hiccup-sob)

“So you’re drunk,” Jose sounds unimpressed.

“I’m s...so drunk baby. It was literally just one s...second. I wasn’t even gonna tell you...but I couldn’t. I h...had to just call and... I knew you’d wanna know.”

That was one point of clarity in this drunk mess. They were very good at being completely honest with each other. He knew whatever the consequences of telling Jose, he couldn’t keep it from him.

“Thank you for bein honest with me,” Jose sighs, sounding anything but thankful.

“You done anything else you ain’t told me?”

“What? No. N...no. Of course.”

“You never done nothing like this before?”

“No, no. God, n...never. I would have told you if I… I only want you. I swear, baby. I don’t…” he hiccups again… “Want anyone else. I love you so much.”

He hears Jose’s tongue click.

“Jesus, Mary. You a hot mess. You ain’t lying bout none of this? You promise?”

“I’ve n...never lied to you,” Brock says indignantly.

He’s more confident about that than any of his other promises. That is something that is simple and straightforward to him.

“I would n...never.”

“And it was only one second?”

“I don’t even know his name. We were just talking and... I’m so drunk. It was so s...stupid. So d...dumb. Fuck baby I’m so so s...sorry,” Brock is crying so hard he has to stop to catch his breath, the alcohol and panic making him extra emotional and out of control like he never is and his body seizing on that to let out everything he never lets it release.

If Brock was dating someone like himself, they would understand. They would probably prefer not to know a little thing like this. Probably wouldn’t even care if he mentioned it, would laugh and say they’d done it themselves a few times.

But Jose is a different animal. To him it’s a big thing. He would never do this. He has to know.

If they were anonymous people it might be different.

But the world knows he is Jose’s boyfriend. If anyone had somehow snapped a picture and Jose saw it and Brock hadn’t told him first...it doesn’t bear thinking about.

That doesn’t make panic-confessing, drunk and crying, any easier.

He is so sure Jose is about to break up with him but he’s being really quiet and serious about it. Brock expected tears and shouting.

Jose exhales a big sigh.

“Okay.” 

“What?”

“Okay,” resigned, and then full of bite,

“But you dare fuckin do it again bitch and I swear to God--”

“I won’t, I promise,” Brock gasps, his drunk brain struggling to keep up when he’d been expecting to get yelled at and dumped.

“Okay? Really?”

He had pictured the TMZ headlines. VANJIE SINGLE AGAIN? HOPELESS ROMANTIC VANJIE DUMPS DRAG QUEEN BOYFRIEND OVER DRUNKEN BAR KISS.

“Yeah. Ya dumb sloppy ho. Drink some water, sober up.” Jose sighs sadly.

“Thank you for telling me. Always tell me.”

“Oh my God, I love you so much. I’m so sorry baby. I don’t want anyone else I swear, I p...promise. I’m so happy with you.” Brock gushes, his drunk brain grappling with his deliverance, even while he feels in the pit of his stomach it’s still not right.

“Yeah okay. I gotta go. I can’t really talk to you right now. I need a minute. But it’s okay.”

Brock gulps, feeling anything but okay.

It’s worse that he’s quiet and sad than if he was yelling and angry.

Maybe he’s been waiting for this to happen since they got back together and Brock has finally fulfilled his expectations. He feels really shitty.

After all the progress he's made at trusting Brock, being less clingy, giving him his space. Will he ever be able to trust him again? Has Brock fucked their delicate balance up for both of them? His brain floods with thoughts, slower because he's drunk, but still panicked. But all he can say is, 

“Okay.”

“Okay," Jose echoes back, sounding anything but. "Goodnight. Drink some water. Take care of yourself. Get Steve to put your drunk ass in a cab. Tell him happy birthday.” He sounds tired and disappointed.

“Okay.” Brock’s voice is small and worried.

“Goodnight.” It’s so jarring to hear him say it with almost no affection.

“Goodnight.”

///

Brock wakes up deathly hungover with a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and remembers why.

He tries to call Jose but it goes straight to voicemail, obviously off.

In the sober light of day he can see it wasn’t that big of a deal, so intent on doing things right this time that his drunk brain panicked. He probably shouldn’t have even told him. It’s very unlikely anyone saw.

It could have become a big deal if he hadn’t stopped but even his messy drunk brain was able to reign him in before it got that far.

Brock feels awful and guilty about the whole thing though. It wasn't worth it. It was a dumb couple seconds of his tongue in a hot stranger’s mouth. His hands on a hot body. He remembers leather body straps and gorgeous ass in a jockstrap. A glossy pout, a scratchy beard. He thinks the guy was bleach blonde, a pretty mixed race guy with very defined thighs. Thinks he’d been following him on Instagram. Knows he was beautiful and hypnotically charming, his charm a match for Brock's own, innocent and captivating. He remembers the intoxicating way he softened under Brock's seduction energy. Remembers something primal inside himself wanting to be wild and free. Seeing something pretty and wanting to touch and kiss it. Remembers the dread of his brain registering the tongue in his mouth tasted different than what he was used to now, making him think of Jose’s tongue and recognize the magnitude of what he was doing. A stupid mindless dickmatized mistake. Carried away by the moment, old habits surfacing and taking over. Something he’d never do sober. So not who he wants to be anymore.

Hurting Jose is last on the list of things he ever wants to do.

This isn’t what Noahs do.

He never wanted to be a Noah but he’s signed himself up for it now. He did that voluntarily, knowing the conditions it demands, and Brock never does anything half assed. Now that he’s chosen this role for himself he wants to fucking excel at it.

Jose has loosened up since the first time they dated, generally doesn’t mind Brock’s flirting as long as it’s within reason. Won’t budge on an open relationship but is doing his best to meet him in the middle on the flirting.

Especially as they both meet so many attractive people all the time now it would be pretty impossible not to. And he can see how hard Brock is working to fight his nature, how much he tries to be romantic for him and give him the big gestures he loves, so he concedes to meet him halfway on harmless social flirting, which has always come like breathing to Brock.

That was the problem the first time. It wasn't that Jose wouldn't even consider the practical, very sensible, idea of an open relationship while they were long distance. He'd meant a real relationship - genuine love and commitment - but more practically arranged to give them both their freedom. He’d just introduced him to his family as his boyfriend, he wasn’t a monster. He was all in for the relationship side of it if they could make the specifics of it work better for them. But Jose shut down immediately, snapped at him, couldn’t even hear what he was trying to say. 

But things had started to sour even before that put the final nail in it. The closer they got Jose was starting to expect Brock to act like there were no other men on earth. Which was insane to expect from anyone, but especially impossible to ask of Brock. 

Jose has always loved to remind Brock how perfect he thinks he is. Usually Brock enjoys it for the sweet compliment it is, but sometimes, especially back then, Brock wanted to ask him how he could say that with a straight face when he had so many things he wanted to change about him. 

Of course Brock never did say that.

Brock doesn't snap back or shout, that's not how he deals with things. He's too Canadian to confront anyone. But he sees straight through bullshit and anyone who doesn't like him can frankly go fuck themselves. He is comfortable with who he is. 

That's what he tried to say to himself when Jose demanded he change, found him lacking. But it had snuck up on him how much he cared about him, how much he let himself start to care when he thought Jose really liked him for who he was.

It really hurt to have someone he cared about so much telling him he loved him while actively hating a large part of who Brock was. Flirting was like breathing to him and Jose knew that perfectly well when he met him, having been on the receiving end of the full force of it.

The fun playful guy he'd been attracted to started to get twisted up into this demanding, clingy stranger. The more in love they fell, the less happy Jose seemed with him. He felt like a housewife in the 50s getting told what to do and how to do it. And Brock wasn’t interested in that kind of judgement. He didn’t spend thirty two years cultivating a life he loved to hand it over to be controlled by _anyone_ else, no matter how he felt about them. 

As far as Brock was concerned, Jose either liked him or he didn’t. It wasn’t fair to say he loved some parts of him and expect him to completely change other things about himself. It fucked with his head, back then. 

It's much, much better now. Gets better the longer they're together, the older they both get, the more perspective they gain. Even compared to a year ago it's better. If he hasn't completely fucked everything up, Brock imagines in another year it could be better again.

Neither of them is right or wrong, and they're slowly coming to accept that. They're just very different people with different viewpoints learning to balance them because hard as it is that's easier than living without each other. It's not easy but if they're clear about what's okay and not okay, what they expect of each other, it's possible.

The direction Jose's life took has mellowed him out considerably about most day to day things, given the magnitude of what any given day of his life is now. Has resulted in him giving Brock a lot more space without even trying to because his attention is split between multiple important things at any given time. Has broadened his thinking as he’s been exposed to more of the world and to different types of people. As he's begun to understand how fake Hollywood love stories can be, with every couple they meet who looks perfect from the outside and is hiding countless small problems, or huge grievances, behind their convincing smiles. Every somehow-still-functional marriage that makes his and Jose's significant differences look very manageable in comparison. Jose is continually adapting his version of reality, moving away from Nicholas Sparks fictional (though he still makes Brock snuggle up and watch that movie with him every couple months) towards a more medium realistic set of standards and expectations.

The more relaxed he gets the more Brock _wants_ to go further to meet his ridiculous expectations. When he was clingy and tried to dictate everything Brock got defensive and shut down. Every bit of space and freedom he gives him to do his thing encourages him to want to give back the loyalty he craves.

That's why last night was so bad. He hopes it hasn't fucked up any trust they've managed to build. His argument has always been that he has these impulses but he's not an animal, he can control them. Now that he can't even say that, what else can he say to reassure him?

Jose has been understanding especially as charming people has become such a huge part of their social and professional lives, at ever higher stakes. Jose needs to flirt himself in some situations, and he recognizes Brock needs to use every skill at his disposal. Occasionally when he’s trying to help him with career stuff he’ll whisper a heads up into his ear,

“Okay baby, you gon’ haveta flirt _hard_ with this one. Keep it cute, think of me.”

Kissing his cheek all saintly and watching Brock giggle and touch people’s chests and waists and hips. His eyes following every movement as Brock leans his head on their shoulders, whispers in ears, makes smouldering eye contact and pulls back coyly just before they lean in for a kiss.

But a random stranger Brock had no reason to be talking to other than he was hot?

That would bother him.

The past couple years, all the things he’s seen and done, have chilled him out considerably about everything. But that would definitely still bother him.

Brock remembers crying into Steve’s comforting manly shoulder after he hung up with Jose.

Starting to pepper kisses on Steve's neck like he would usually do playfully in a friend-flirting way, totally innocent affection, in front of Steve's lovely boyfriend, but within the context of the night it set him off crying all over again when he realized what he was doing.

Wanting so badly to be the person Jose wants him to be and knowing being that is a fight against his very nature. Knowing how much easier it would be to be with someone who accepts him exactly as he is.

But he doesn’t want anyone else and Jose is too stubborn to change any more than he already has. Any change bigger than that would be a long time down the line. No matter how much Brock wishes he’d turn around and surprise him one day and say he was up for trying an open relationship.

Not that Brock would even particularly take advantage of it now, if he magically did. He's used to things as they are now. He doesn't really think about other trade, beyond the moment it's passing right in front of him. He's often doing something so cool and interesting these days that fucking a stranger is the last thing on his mind. His first thought is more likely to text Jose about it, or if he's doing something really cool, chances are he's with Jose anyway. They see a lot of each other now, have got coordinating their schedules down to a fine art.

It would just be nice to know he has that freedom, if he ever wanted it. To not have to feel like a monster for his natural impulses.

The decision to change, to commit was his. He has nobody else to blame for it. He chose it knowing what it entails, and he’d do it all over again to get to be with Jose, the only guy he’s ever loved, a guy unlike anyone else Brock has ever met. To get to live the amazing life they have now together he would give up, do, promise anything.

He still stands by what he said when they got back together. Jose is more important to him than anything else.

But that doesn't mean it's not _hard_. Doesn't magically make it easy.

Sometimes it is really hard and it makes him feel stifled again, makes him feel frustrated.

Poor lovely angel Steve. His sweet caring best friend spent at least an hour of his birthday cuddling a sniffling wasted Brock in a loud bar before putting him in a cab.

Hungover and sick to his stomach from more than the alcohol, Brock decides he’s not drinking for the foreseeable future. Texts Jose that and that he’s sorry for waking him up, and for all of it. That he hopes he’s okay.

The text doesn’t get delivered. Phone definitely off, or no reception. The remote places they’re shooting sometimes have no reception and shoots can go twelve hours or longer some days.

There’s no reason to worry.

But still he does.

He pops some Tylenol for his bitch of a hangover and sits on his couch and stares at the wall, checking his phone every couple minutes. He puts the TV on and stares at it, not really watching, mind racing.

He thinks about going over to Jose’s and sleeping off his hangover there but he knows he won’t be able to sleep. And if he smells him on the pillows he’ll probably cry rather than find it comforting. He’s also so not in the right state of mind to make small talk with Anabell if she’s there.

It’s really hard being an ocean away from each other at a time like this.

He just wants to see him, see the look in his eyes, so he can know how much trouble he’s really in. So he can try and kiss him until it goes away. So he can comfort him if he's upset. So he can be comforted himself. He really wants a big hug from him to make him feel better even though it’s technically his own fault he’s feeling this way.

He looks at flights and thinks about cancelling tomorrow’s gig and then worries that Jose wouldn’t want him to come, wouldn’t want to see him right now.

He keeps checking his phone and there’s nothing.

The cats and Riley pick up on his distress and rally around him for cuddles. He pets them mindlessly, buries his face in Henry's fur.

That thing about dogs looking like their owners might be true because when Riley puts his head in Brock’s lap at looks up at him sympathetically, his soulful eyes remind Brock of Jose and it makes his heart clench.

He hopes he hasn’t fucked up the best thing in his life.

He’s broken out of his trance by the sound of the key turning in the door.

Jose’s head pokes in looking around, duffle bag on his shoulder.

“Hello?”

Even frowning he’s a sight for sore eyes.

Brock shoots up from the couch, over to him immediately, heart in his throat.

“Hi,” he says, soft and tentative.

“Hi,” Jose looks at him, smiles a little, resigned and maybe a touch embarrassed.

He's all little and cute in a way that makes Brock itch to grab him, but practically vibrating with intense energy in a way that scares him. He pulls on the strings of his orange hoodie, swallows.

“You look look like shit,” the corners of his mouth twitch tentatively, and Brock ducks his hungover head embarassed. He doesn’t even tease back or playfully push him. He’s sure he looks terrible.

“Hadda come see you. I know I’m probably overreacting or whatever but girl…” he shakes his head looking exasperated. A bit hurt and confused.

“No, I’m so glad you’re here.” Brock says urgently. His hands flutter at his sides in an aborted impulse to reach out and grab Jose’s.

If he could have wished for anything in the world it would have been this. To be here this quickly he must have left for the airport less than an hour after they hung up. Brock's heart flips. He can’t help the completely tender look on his face at the sight of him.

“I’m being totally dramatic too. I nearly booked a flight. Didn’t know if you’d wanna see me.”

Jose shakes his head, tilts it to one side looking at him. 

“Bitch, I always wanna see you.”

They look at each other and then surge forward at the same time and are kissing.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Brock breathes between kissing him like he’s precious, and Jose shudders against him.

“It was so dumb. I was so drunk. It was literally two seconds. I shouldn’t even have told you.”

Jose pulls back and raises his eyebrows,

“Two seconds now? Bitch I thought it was one.”

Without alcohol dilating his sense of time it was probably more like five or ten or thirty if Brock really thinks about it, but there’s absolutely nothing good that would come from telling Jose that so he makes the executive decision not to for both their sakes.

Jose scoffs a little and shakes his head.

“Chil’ whatever. It don’t matter. Don’t do it again, all right?”

“All right,” Brock nods solemnly.

Jose shakes his head exasperated.

“Shit. You so fuckin cute when you all sincere. Don’t give me those googly eyes, bitch. I’m tryna stay mad at you.”

Brock laughs and hides his face in his hands to comply because he can’t help the way he’s looking at him, the way his love surges up through him and shines out his face.

The animals have come over to welcome Jose home. He picks Riley up and kisses him, crouches to scratch behind Henry’s ear as he twines around his legs. Says in the sweetest little voice,

“Hey Henry, hi babe. Where Apollo at? Say hi to your brother,” and Brock is overcome with love for his little family.

His heart flutters madly. He can’t believe he nearly fucked up the most important thing he’s ever had.

He tells his inner monologue to calm down, stop being so dramatic. That his heart is only flipping so dizzyingly because Jose being sweet to his cats is one of his weaknesses. 

“Your messy drunk ass done good telling me,” Jose looks up at him from the floor, letting Henry go and putting Riley down. He stands back up.

“Maybe it’s fucked up but I kinda feel like I can trust you more now,” Jose laughs lightly at himself. 

“That’s good. You _can_ trust me. I promise.”

Brock must sound too relieved because Jose adds,

"I ain't sayin it's okay. It's still bad. Real bad. But at least you takin it serious now. You get what it means to me."

Brock nods vehemently because he does. He tries to kiss his boyfriend's frown away but Jose pulls back, holding his hands, looks him in the eye.

He seems so much more mature than the last time they talked about this stuff. Sure they're about six years older and have been through a lot more life experience but he hasn't even snapped or raised his voice at all yet.

Brock realizes his responses must seem more mature to Jose too, now that they understand each other better.

“Always tell me, okay?” Jose looks at him, serious and vulnerable, steeling himself against the worst he can imagine of Brock. “No matter what.”

“I will,” Brock promises, wide eyed, swallowing the tiny fading part of him that wants to bite back defensively or start talking about open relationships, and giving him as much comforting sincerity as he can.

“But there won’t be anything to tell. I’ll be good," he promises softly. "I love you so much.”

He pushes the front door shut and presses Jose into it with kisses, blessing every inch of skin he can reach with love. Jose sighs and trembles beneath him. Cries a little bit and Brock kisses the tears away. The cats snuggle up in Jose’s orange hoodie when it gets tossed on the floor.

He picks Jose up and carries him to bed to show his devotion in the language he speaks best.

He’s lying on Jose’s chest later, Jose’s hands in his hair, so grateful for the familiar hum of energy in the body beneath him, when he confesses,

“Thought you were gonna break up with me.”

“Nah. But if you do it again I might,” Jose's hands tug lightly on his hair, half playful, half a warning.

“I won’t,” Brock promises again. He'll keep saying it if he needs to. He wishes he could show him how much he means it.

Brock's eyes and thumbs search across Jose's smooth golden skin for new blackheads, his feline brain unable not to groom his loved ones if they lie still around him long enough. Finding none, he kisses down his chest, painting soft kisses all over him, bathing him in the full force of his attention, trying his best to make him feel so loved. 

“I want you. Want you so much. All the time, every day, more than anyone else, boo, I swear," he promises into the skin of Jose's stomach. It quivers beneath him.

"Our life together is so important to me. You’re more important than anything else.”

He runs his hands gently up his body to where Jose is blinking at him warmly. Holds his face and kisses his pretty mouth that parts for him. Ducks his head to kiss the ink of his name over Jose's heart.

He pulls back and looks at Jose lighting up the pillow with his tremulous smile. Strokes his thumb over his cheekbone, and the soft confession comes out without thinking,

“I could see us being old together.”

Jose’s eyes widen and his breath catches.

It’s the most serious committed thing Brock has ever said to anyone.

More articulate than tattoos. More intense than his first I love you.

He said I love you to Jose for the first time when they were breaking up. Said it many times while he was ending the night in someone else’s bed.

Loving someone, getting a tattoo that shows it, is one thing. Imagining a whole life together, that’s something else.

But it’s true, he’s thought about it. In a vague sort of way, sure, but he didn’t hate the idea, and although he surprised himself when it came out, it feels right to say it now.

“You old already, boo,” Jose jokes, squeezing his sides, a little breathless.

Brock does an _oh really?_ face, only about 10% serious.

Jose nods, smiling softly, “You an old ass ho,” he giggles, “Look at your face.”

“Well I’ll get crankier the older I get so you better watch it with the sass, bitch. I’ve only got about five or ten years of patience left.”

Jose is smiling but his eyes are still dazed by the topic.

"So you wanna grow old with me, huh?" he breathes, watching Brock's reaction, mesmerized. "Wanna be old ladies together, hm?"

Brock smiles, all warm playful seduction. "So what if I do?"

He can feel Jose's heart rate speeding up, pounding under his palm.

“Baby, you proposing?” he asks softly. Sort of joking but with an awed seriousness, taken aback and kind of really asking a little.

His thumb involuntarily finds the heart on Brock’s left wrist and strokes back and forth over it.

“God, no,” Brock laughs, shaking it off.

“Not yet,” he looks at him soft and thinking out loud. Smiles conspiratorially.

“But maybe one day.”

Jose blinks up at him in absolute awe and love for a long moment and then shakes his head, literally shakes himself, breaking himself out of the spell.

"As if you'd be able to propose," he teases to lighten the mood. "I ain't waitin for no miracles."

"Hey," Brock grabs his sides, playfully offended, something to prove and not quite ready to let go of the magic that had settled over them. "I could do a great proposal."

"Oh yeah?" Jose raises his eyebrows doubtfully.

Brock takes that as the challenge it is and starts kissing his neck. The idea for his little performance hits him instantly and he grins into Jose's skin, moving his gentle kisses slowly up to his ear, where he breathes softly, 

"Jose, it's not gonna be easy, baby. It's going to be really hard. We're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I wanna do that because I want you," he maybe gets a word or two wrong, but he's watched this so many times with Jose he gets it pretty much perfect.

He feels the moment when Jose recognizes what it is, gasps and starts trembling. He lifts his head up and sees tears sparkling in his eyes. Through the tears he sputters laughter at him, hits him gently like _how dare you quote that at me like this?_ , then pets Brock's hair.

So Brock continues, kissing his neck, murmuring, "Jose, baby, I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me."

Jose blinks fast and the tears fall. He is fully crying, laughing too, when Brock pulls himself up and pecks his lips, wet and salty with tears, inhaling breaths that shake his whole torso. 

"How's that for a proposal, bitch?" Brock winks at him, pleased with the reaction to his little romantic performance.

"Knew you was comin for Ryan Gosling's gig. You Canadians is all the same," Jose jokes wetly through tears, petting Brock's face so affectionately. 

"You doin me real dirty playin me like that," he mock scolds, but he looks dazed and delighted. 

"I didn't know you knew it," he says in a softer tone, all awed again. 

"I'm full of surprises," Brock smirks. "But I mean, give me some credit. We've watched it so many times. I'm not totally brainless." 

Jose laughs, leans up for a quick kiss but seems mostly content just to lie there and look at Brock like he's a heavenly painting.

"I'd take you on a boat too. Get a bunch of swans," Brock smiles, softly smug. He likes winning games. 

"Yeah right, bitch. Where you gonna get swans?" Jose gets out but he's still slightly sobbing.

"I'd find them. Make it rain too," Brock kisses his lips again, and says near his mouth,

"Put you in a pretty blue dress I could tear off you."

Jose's eyes darken wickedly and he wraps his arms around Brock's neck. 

"Would you really do all that?" he breathes in wonder.

"Yeah. Well, not now, I'd have to do something else to surprise you. But yeah, if I had to think of it today, I would have," Brock shrugs.

"Aww, you shouldn't have told me," Jose looks genuinely heartbroken for a second and Brock can't help chuckling. "I'ma have to forget this so you can do it."

"Nah," Brock kisses him. "I'll think of a better one."

While he loves how dreamily Jose is looking up at him he doesn't want to lead him on somewhere he can't follow through on, so he says, 

"I meant it though. Not right now. Maybe not for a long time. Like a long, long time." 

Jose must notice the anxiety starting to gather in his face because he manages to pull himself out of his dreamy haze to become the comforting one and pet his face again, 

"I know. That's okay baby. Whenever you want. Whenever you ready."

Brock smiles deeply at the reassurance, as well as the implication that if and when he ever does decide to do it, it seems like Jose's answer is not one of the elements he needs to worry about.

Which maybe should have been obvious from the way Jose is around him but you never know. Knowing that for almost certain is huge and wonderful and something to turn over in his mind and figure out how he feels about it.

Jose scoots around and changes positions, nudging himself under Brock's arm, cuddling into him, obviously wanting comfort and reassurance by the way he curls his whole body tight against him. Brock holds him tight and kisses the top of his head.

After that he’s forgiven.

He doesn’t drink at all for a month and even when he starts again keeps it to just one or two if Jose’s not with him. It’s not worth it to fuck up again. He’s determined to be the boyfriend he knows he can be, the amazing perfect guy Jose sees when he looks at him.

Something about having those expectations there makes him want to rise to meet them. Exceed them. It’s the perfectionist in him. He’s thought lately as stifling as Jose got by the end, maybe the main reason he felt like he couldn’t breathe the first time they dated wasn’t Jose’s expectations themselves, it was his perfectionist guilt at knowing he wasn’t in a place where he was able to meet them. This time it’s different. This time he wants to rise to the occasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really struggling with loss of work due to COVID 19. If you enjoyed this story, or any of my writing (or hate it but feel like doing something nice today!) please consider [sending me a digital cup of coffee](https://poppedthep.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> If even half the people who see this did it, it would make a huge difference! 
> 
> If you can’t or don’t want to, that’s cool. People here are the best. You are totally welcome to continue enjoying my stories no matter what!


	5. The Next Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for this chap we’re back in the present after their night out in NY. Hopefully that’s clear from the writing and this note was unnecessary!

With the morning light aggravating their hangovers and Good Morning America waiting, Jose groans from under Brock’s arm as he hangs up the wake up call. Doesn’t want to move from bed.

At some point in the night they must have got undressed and got under the covers because their clothes are in a pile next to the bed. They fall back asleep briefly until Luca calls to say he’s downstairs.

At that Jose snaps upright, asks Luca to circle the block for fifteen and could he please pick up a breakfast sandwich with tofu sausage or a bagel with salmon and cream cheese, whichever he can find, and anything else, whatever he wants,

“Thank you baby, you a angel, Luca, my babe.”

Never let it be said that Jose isn’t the biggest sweetheart to everyone he employs.

He puts on huge sunglasses and hides in a big faux fur and a kitty ears baseball cap.

“Aw, you tired?” Brock blinks sleepy affection at him from the pillow. “Come back to bed soon, kitty girl.”

Jose shines at the nickname. It was exceptionally soft of him, especially with the fond look he’s giving him, so Brock balances it out by laughing at him for being still drunk from the smug comfort of bed, stretching his arms lazily above his head.

Jose’s pout is interrupted by his eyes going to where the sheets fall away from Brock’s torso with interest and he jumps on him, kisses him, climbs back into bed, getting wrapped up in the soft sheets and Brock’s arms until Luca calls again asking if he needs more time.

He very seriously contemplates it until Brock reaches for his printed call sheet on the nightstand and points out his call time for makeup is in forty minutes and it’s a thirty minute drive at least.

Jose is hard working and not unreliable by any means, but Brock is always beyond punctual, the first to arrive anywhere, and he’s been a great influence.

Running a little late for your own drag event is one thing. It’s a different story when you're doing live TV or you have a whole set and crew hemorrhaging budget while they wait for you.

When Jose leaves Brock orders a full decadent breakfast from room service, sends Jose a gloating picture of him eating it because he stupidly misses him already.

He gets back a boomerang of a cute exaggerated eye roll.

He falls back asleep half way through a sausage.

///

He wakes up less than an hour later with a pounding headache, his poor liver not used to processing so much alcohol.

He could call the concierge but he hasn’t become that spoiled yet, and the fresh air might help his hangover, so he pulls on sweats, a hoodie and his red baseball cap and heads down to CVS to pick up some Tylenol.

He’s standing in the long ass line when a girl behind him gasps dramatically.

“Oh my gosh, are you Brooke Lynn Hytes?”

“Uh, yeah,” he says softly, putting a kind fan smile on but trying to keep his voice down, hoping no one else will notice.

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! You’re Vanjie’s boyfriend.”

The couple in front turn their heads a little at the name Vanjie and Brock raises a finger to his lips in a ssh gesture, face pleading. She gets the hint.

“Sorry," she whispers. "Are you really Brooke Lynn, Vanjie’s boyfriend?"

“Mmhm,” Brock does an awkward smile, "Unless he's broken up with me since this morning."

She's too overwhelmed to get the dry joke so he smiles kindly at her instead. He’ll be sweet to any fan but he prefers when it’s a fan who knows him in his own right. Drag is more mainstream than ever so sometimes fans do, even outside the bubble of the gay community. But this type of thing is much more frequent unless they're in gay spaces, where Vanjie is still more famous but at least Brooke Lynn is universally adored too.

“Is Vanjie here?” The girl looks around Brock like he might be hiding behind him.

“No, he’s working this morning,” Brock is really struggling to keep up the fan smile with this hangover.

“Awww. Will you tell him I love him? He got me through a year of depression. I literally owe him my whole life.”

The girl shows him a tattoo of “Stay Ready” on her ankle and Brock laughs,

“That’s great, he’d love that. Congrats on beating the depression. That’s awesome. I totally struggle with anxiety sometimes. Everyone is fighting something. You’re not alone.”

“Oh my gosh you’re so nice,” she gushes. She's gotten louder again and the couple in front glance around. Brock pulls his hat lower and tries to be inconspicuous.

“You two are so cute. You’re my inspiration. I want a relationship like yours one day.”

“I’m sure you will baby,” Brock smiles sweetly.

“Yeah right. Looking like this?” She scoffs dismissively.

Brock looks at her.

She’s not about to be on the cover of Vogue and you can tell she’s not an avid gym goer. But she has a compelling sparkle in her eyes and her face lights up when she smiles, and that’s all you really need for drawing someone in to connect with you, whether for a night or for a lifetime. Having _connected_ with more than his fair share of guys, Brock knows that.

“Bitch don’t say that! You’re beautiful,” he smiles kindly. He reaches out and tucks the girl's hair behind her ear in a comforting gesture. 

She gasps a little, pleasantly surprised and overwhelmed, blushes furiously.

“Um, thanks. But nobody else thinks so.”

“Fuck ‘em. You don’t need to win over everybody in the world. Just find someone who’s right for you. Or multiple people! Whatever works for you, honey.”

Brock is slightly regretting not calling the concierge to get the Tylenol. It’s not like they can’t afford the $50 and it is way too early for sincere motivational speeches, even though the girl is sweet.

“Easy for you to say, you’re, like, perfect,” the girl looks at him wistfully, eyes clouding in the way people’s do when they’re dazzled by his beauty, but with an edge of longing that’s sad rather than sexual.

“Oh, honey, nobody’s perfect. Ask Vanjie, you should see my feet!” He jokes, knowing that’s something most of the fans have heard, and, as expected, it makes her laugh.

“Besides it’s impossible to be perfect for everyone. You just have to be perfect for your person.”

“Oh my gosh that’s so romantic. I’m literally crying,” The girl gushes, and, yes, she is tearing up. Her hands are shaking.

“I’m so glad Vanjie has you. You’re the boyfriend he deserves.”

Wow, that shouldn’t feel so validating to hear from a stranger. Sure the girl doesn’t actually know anything about him, but Brock basks smugly in that particular piece of praise anyway.

Truly never would Brock have guessed he’d one day become the spokesmodel for True Love. If you told him that ten or even five years ago he’d have laughed in your face.

“This is like, the best day of my life. Sorry to ask but could we take a photo please?” the girl sniffs, wiping under her eyes to get her mascara smudges.

“Sure,” Brock says kindly, bravely letting her immortalize this hungover face because he can tell how much the moment means to her.

He’s feeling unusually kind riding the high of last night and in vacation mode, despite his hangover headache, so he asks her name and texts Jose a selfie of the two of them with, _Maria at CVS says she loves you._

Before they get to the front of the line Jose is Facetiming.

“She there?” he asks when Brock answers, and no wonder his fans love him so much. Maria wasn't to know but going through Brock is a sure fire way to get his attention.

“Hey Maria, love you too babe,” Jose says to her through the phone. He blows a kiss, the Good Morning America set barely visible in the background.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” the girl starts shaking and crying as Jose leans close to the phone, his picture blurry.

“You mean everything to me.”

She’s gotten loud again and high pitched in the overwhelm of the moment and the couple in front turn properly and clock what’s happening, get a little gagged themselves and start videoing it.

Perfect. More footage of Brock’s hungover face.

“Thanks babe. I gotta go, I’m working, just wanted to say hi,” Jose smiles brightly, his cute-for-the-fans smile.

“Be nice to my boo. Go follow his instagram if you ain’t already.”

“I will. He’s so nice,” The girl does it in front of him, hands shaking as she holds her phone up to show him.

“I’m so glad you have such a sweet boyfriend.”

“Me too babe, I love him a lot,” Vanjie says and Brock smiles like a little schoolgirl.

They take a quick selfie of her and Vanjie on the phone before they hang up. Brock steps up to the register with the girl thanking him over and over, waving shyly when he says goodbye, telling him this is the best day of her life.

It’s nice to give people moments like that, he thinks, through the pounding in his head, as he pays and exits onto the bustling sidewalk.

 _Aw she cute. You up early Lil Miss CVS shopper_ Jose texts.

 _Just came to get tylenol. Going back to bed bitch_ he replies, with a dead face emoji.

///

He’s woken up by Jose climbing back into bed mid morning, smelling like unfamiliar studio hairspray.

His clothes from the morning have joined the pile from last night on the floor and he kisses up Brock’s chest, murmuring they have the whole afternoon before he has to be anywhere. Throws a leg high over his hip, Brock running his hand over it from ass to knee and back. Down his calf when he hikes the leg up even higher, settling on holding his soft little foot, massaging it lightly, which makes Jose hum pleased against his chest.

He undermines the promise twinkling in his eyes by falling asleep on Brock soon after but it’s nice anyway to spend time lying naked and pressed close together, even if they’re unconscious. It’s closeness they miss when they’re apart, vital to get in while they can.

Brock dozes too. He wakes up when Jose starts to fidget and sees they've rolled over in sleep and are spooning. He curls himself closer around his boyfriend, slides a hand across his abs to pull him even closer. When he can tell Jose is properly awake, he starts kissing his neck and shoulder, gentle and delicate, making him sigh and melt back into him.

Jose's head chases around behind him to find Brock's mouth and they meet in a soft slow kiss over his shoulder. 

For a long time they just make out, light and gentle and enjoying each other's mouths. Jose gets absolutely fixated on the softness and fullness of Brock's bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and nibbling on it, diving back in for one more kiss every time he starts to pull back.

Jose turns fully into the kiss eventually and Brock gets him on his back. Kisses slowly, tenderly down his body and sucks him off, salivating at the sight of him. Before he comes, Jose rolls back over on his side and pulls Brock around him spooning again. He takes the hint and opens him up, slides into him, fucking slow while kissing his neck some more, pumping his dick in time with his deep thrusts, Jose's happy noises more like purrs than moans like this.

They fall back asleep almost as soon as Brock slides out of him. He pulls out just before he comes and does it on his own stomach, easier to get rid of. When he's wiped it off, Jose scoots backwards into him to avoid his wet patch. Lazy with hangover still, Brock pulls him close, kisses his shoulder, slips back to sleep easily.

Jose wakes him up not long after with his mouth around him, telling him how perfect he is around the dick filling his throat. His head rests on Brock's stomach, gazing up at him adoringly. They fall back asleep again after Brock comes, his body and his ego both buzzing with pleasure.

They drift between sleep, lazy chats, slow delicious daytime sex and cuddles. No emails, no calls, just them, intimacy, blankets, slow kisses, body heat. Sliding from lazy conversation into sex so seamlessly there’s no clear shift.

"What you wanna do today?" Jose yawns, arching his back off the bed and letting out a pleased "ooomf" when he settles back against the sheets.

Brock is lying alongside him, head propped up on his elbow looking down at him and Jose's hand sneaks up to toy with his hair. 

"Nothing," Brock smiles, lazy. "I just wanna lie here and look at you."

"Look at me?" Jose laughs like Brock's being silly, soft and delighted and charmed by the warm look Brock is giving him. Almost self-conscious receiving so much of Brock's attention at once.

"Mmhmm. You're nice to look at," Brock murmurs soft and fond and leans down to peck his lips. 

They debate getting up and going out for a walk but then Brock trails the back of two fingers up the inside of Jose's thigh so they end up kissing and chatting and sleeping some more instead.

Jose is nestled into his side and they’re talking about how they both cry at the Toy Story movies. Then they somehow get on to the inhumane conditions for factory workers in South Asia.

Jose starts recounting what he can remember from a documentary he saw about fast fashion. His voice is hypnotically soft and he’s so cute and perfect looking up at him, that ever present shine in his eyes. So pretty he looks like a little doll, even as a boy. Brock gets mesmerised watching his full lips as he talks.

Brock starts sucking on his own fingers while he’s hmming along to what Jose is saying. Draws his boyfriend’s leg across his stomach, starts circling his asshole and slipping his fingers into his ass, smugly murmuring,

“Interesting, carry on,” and enjoying Jose stutter over his words as he tries to finish the conversation while Brock starts fucking him open. He's already loose from earlier so it's more for the enjoyment of it than the practicality. 

“...and it’s real sa...sad it’s…mmm yes baby that so good…”

Brock places a soft little kiss on his lips and pulls back so he can keep talking. From this angle he can see the arrows on his fingers disappearing in and out between his cheeks. It captures his attention, makes him smile to himself.

“...it so bad the conditions they have to...fuuuuck…”

Jose arches, pressing up against him, neck tipping back and Brock kisses his throat, softly bites his bottom lip. Lets it go slowly as he pulls back again to listen, his face a teasing picture of innocence.

“...I’m tryna tell you bout something serious, you thirsty hobag. Tryna educate your ass. Can you not...oh fuck yes baby...don’t stop…”

Brock is two fingers deep, curling them to stroke his prostate gently with the pads.

He wraps a hand around his dick which is bouncing hard against his stomach and runs his thumb in a circle around the head as he does a come hither curl with the two fingers inside him, making him jerk awkwardly as he tries to thrust into Brock’s hand and push back on his fingers simultaneously.

“Fuuuuck…fuckin tease…” his eyes are dark and sparkling at Brock.

“Teasin whore...you know they don’t even get minimum wage and...mmmm.”

He keeps chatting and Brock keeps listening even as he rolls on top of him, making him gasp when he lets go of his dick and realises he isn’t gonna let him come like that, and gasp even more when he pushes inside him, asking,

“Mm hm, what else do they have to do?” Softly against his lips as he nudges his nose affectionately, arms either side of his head on the pillow.

“They ain’t....got...unions...or...nothing,” Jose gasps out, breathing heavy, adjusting to the sudden size of him. He looks tiny beneath him, delighted to be boxed in by him.

He makes a half hearted attempt to finish the conversation as Brock starts thrusting slowly like they have all the time in the world, attentively nodding along between teasing kisses.

Eventually they pick up the pace some and Jose flips them over to ride him, settling into the driver’s seat, making Brock the one who’s gasping, giddy with pleasure.

Jose puts on a little show like always, winding his hips like he’s dancing for cash, but it’s not his usual ferocious pace, slower and sweeter, and their fingers stay linked for most of it. When they’re not, Brock’s hands fit around the curve of his waist like they were made to be there.

As they pick up the pace, Brock sits up so their chests are together. So he can kiss Jose deeply, one hand on his neck drawing him close, feel him gasping into his mouth as he comes. 

They feel blissful and boneless and connected after coming. Jose always loves to cuddle after sex. Runs his hands all over Brock’s body like he’s memorizing him, mapping him, sculpting him. Brock bundles Jose to his chest, snuggles his face into him, rubs behind his ears like he’s Henry, grooms him. Brock has only one style of cuddling and he learned it from cats.

Jose feels like an electric ball of energy in his arms, like always. Holding him feels like charging his soul up.

They manage to get a chanel on the hotel TV that is showing ABC in a different time zone, so Good Morning America is still on, and they watch Jose's interview.

"You did great Papi," Brock beams at him, kisses the side of his head, squeezes his arms around him. "You're so funny. They love you." He laughs along with the presenters at Jose's jokes.

"Thank you baby," his boyfriend smiles sleepily, pleased with himself.

"They was real nice. Them make up hos were goddamn heroes, look, I don't even look tired. Baby I was dying! Thought I was bout ta hurl all over Miss Robin."

Brock laughs.

"You look great. Very handsome," he kisses him again.

It blows his mind a little that his boyfriend is promoting his movie on daytime TV. That they're snuggling in bed watching him be broadcast out to the nation. Things are really about to kick off these next couple weeks with the press tour and the premiers.

They've both been on TV and in the public eye for several years now but this is really taking it to the next level. Brock is so proud and so awed of his talent. Sometimes it really hits him how lucky he is to be with him. Brock has a healthy sized ego but if he stops to think about it, even he wonders how he got so lucky that out of all the beautiful sarcastic gay Canadian dancers who dress up as women in the world, Jose for some reason stubbornly thinks the sun shines out of Brock.

Sometimes in perfect moments like this Brock's anxiety brain irrationally kicks in, maybe glitching as he tries to process how lucky he is, and he’ll have to check. He tilts Jose’s face to look at him and asks,

“Boo, are you happy?” soft and serious, just to make sure.

How ironic that he used to be the one who felt stifled in the relationship and these days he often worries he’s the one holding Jose back.

Jose frowns in confusion,

"Mmhmm. Kinda tired," he sees Brock's face and adds, "Ohh. You mean like, with you?"

Brock nods, googly eyed and Jose’s lazy smile is like sunshine as he answers, “Yesssss baby. Of course. Very happy.”

He grabs Brock’s left wrist and brings it to his mouth to kiss the heart. Burrows back into him comfortably.

Then his head pops back up in alarm, frowning.

“Why? Are you?” a little accusatory, hints of old fears still there, even though they’re growing and changing so much. Growing towards each other this time, around each other symbiotically like vines, rather than apart.

“Mmhmm. Very happy,” Brock nods quickly to assuage him. Strokes his pretty face, pulls him up to kiss his pretty lips.

Sometimes Jose will be the one who gets existential on them. Recently he was looking up what Maddox Jolie-Pitt looks like now and very alarmingly asked,

“You ever wanna have kids?”

Brock blinked in shock, deer-in-headlights, mind immediately going to the baby who screamed through his most recent flight, and joked,

“Uh, we’re a bit busy today.”

Jose rolled his eyes. “Relax, Christine, I ain’t pregnant. I mean like would you? One day.”

He did his expectant interested head tilt, full focus on Brock’s answer. Brock took a moment to think about it, because it’s not something he really thinks about.

“Maybe. I dunno. I’m already an Uncle. And a Twitter Mommy.”

“Hmm,” Jose laughed lightly.

“And a cat mom. And a dog stepmom.”

Jose flashed him a smile and went back to scrolling pictures. Matter of factly added,

“I do. One day,” without looking up.

Brock raised his eyebrows, not that Jose could see them, immersed in his screen.

“Noted.”

Jose laughed and Brock noticed he was googling international adoption. He knew it was just his ADD curiosity, the way he was googling how to survive a shark last week, but he looked away before he had a panic attack.

He hoped Jose meant one day like when he's fifty, not one day like when he said he wanted to learn to play pool one day and the next time Brock went over to his place there was a giant pool table in the lounge.

“Aww look at the little baby girls from China. They so cute,” Jose shoved his phone in Brock’s face and Brock responded with an ‘aw’ without really seeing them as his eyes unfocussed from panic. He made up a last minute rehearsal to escape the conversation.

He drove around for an hour and went to Sweetgreen in place of his fake rehearsal and on reflection he might be one day way in the future, but he’s probably not ready for kids any time soon, no.

///

Finally dragging themselves out of bed, Brock picks at the leftovers of his breakfast as they get dressed until Jose starts teasing him about happy weight.

He is developing a little belly with all the good food they’ve been eating lately and knowing his genetics he should be more careful.

They still have a couple hours completely theirs so they go for a stroll because it’s their only free time on the trip. Brock’s arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, Jose’s hand in Brock’s back pocket, slotting into him like a puzzle piece. Because it’s New York and no one cares they can walk around openly (well, with baseball caps shielding their faces, but relatively free and anonymous) and almost no one bothers them. They pose happily for photos with the handful of people who do.

They browse cute furniture in overpriced little West Village vintage shops, classic rich bougie gays. Jose buys an antique table neither of them needs because Brock likes it but has no space for it at his place. They get it shipped to Jose’s, which has enough huge rooms they’ll find a space for it somewhere.

They get $20 salads at Chelsea Market and Brock buys a pretty shawl at Anthropologie and a boy jacket at a pop up boutique in Meatpacking. Jose gets pants that cup his ass like a second skin, the same pair in a couple different colors, and calls Luca to take their bags back to the hotel so they don’t have to carry it all. Brock still appreciates how lucky they are that they can just buy whatever they feel like without thinking about the cost at all. It's not lost on him how amazing his life is and he's thankful for it every day.

They get juices and snacks from Trader Joe’s in Chelsea, surrounded by other cute gay couples and their tiny dogs doing their weekend shops.

Brock used to shop at this Trader Joe's when he lived in New York with Trocadero. He would look at the cute gay couples from afar, looking so domestic and picture perfect and wonder if he was missing out. Now he feels very included in the domestic weekend shop fantasy carrying their basket with his hand in Jose’s back pocket. He feels single gays look at them, not because they're famous, but because they're a cute couple.

They walk along the Piers on the Hudson and around Hudson River Park holding hands. They lie down in the grass. It’s early September so the weather is gorgeous. Jose starts tickling Brock’s face with a blade of grass until he catches his wrist to make him stop.

Then he grabs the other one and pins both to the grass by his head, rolls on top of him and pins him with his weight, just for fun. Jose smiles up at him bright and a little breathless, glowing handsome, and he doesn’t even kiss him right away because he’s so nice to look at.

After kisses that make his stomach melt he lies on top of him, letting the grass take half his weight so he doesnt crush him, tucking his head into his shoulder, his favorite place to be. Jose gets an earlobe between finger and thumb and strokes it and it’s so relaxing he could fall asleep again right there.

They’re shedding outdoor clothes as soon as they’re back at the hotel. The pile that was on the floor has been neatly folded by housekeeping, so they start a new one

Jose launches himself onto the bed in just underwear, rolls onto his back and sticks his legs up in the air. He leans back on his elbows to blink and smile slowly at Brock as he spreads his legs open in the air. Brock laughs and fills the space between his legs like a magnet, leaning down to kiss him through his parted legs, hands going around the tops of his thighs stretching them further open. 

As the kiss deepens Brock starts thrusting his hips against him making his boyfriend hum against his mouth, but he says, 

"Nuh uh just playin baby. We ate a lot. Gotta give the pussy a minute."

Brock laughs and runs his hands up Jose's legs, stretching them as far open as they'll go before releasing him.

They get into bed to make the most of the last hour of relaxation before Jose has to go downstairs for interviews with some magazines and Brock has to get ready for his show. They contemplate the gym for all of two minutes before giving themselves a pass for being hungover but decide to at least be productive.

Jose stays cuddled under Brock’s arm in bed, chin on his chest, iPad on his stomach, using Brock's body as his desk, as they both spend an hour answering emails - the modern American dream.

“MTV asking bout putting you in a arc on the show again boo,” Jose mutters, reading from his inbox.

“Still no,” Brock doesn’t look up from his phone, doesn’t even need to consider his answer. He plays mindlessly with his eyebrows with his free hand, arm above his head, pushing the hairs in the opposite direction.

He’s kept his appearances on Vanjie’s reality show pretty limited.

He’s been shown as his boyfriend. If something they’d be doing together anyway gets brought up to be included in what they shoot he’ll go along and play nice for it. Do his best to be cute and charming while Vanjie throws out jokes and catchphrases like the air he’s breathing. Maybe make a few jokes of his own if he’s feeling brave. But he’s resisted their attempts to get him involved in his own storylines so far.

He went on Drag Race to perform. The reality TV side of it was just a necessary evil, and, let’s be honest, his personality wasn’t his strength. Reality star attempt number two is probably not the ideal path for him. Not to mention how messy it got the last time they let reality TV go to town on their relationship.

“Could be good for Broadway,” Jose looks up at him.

“We’re already sold out,” Brock answers, responding to an email of his own from Steve.

“True true. Bit a extra buzz never hurt nobody though.”

“Any more buzz the theatre will be filled with bees.”

Jose chuckles lightly under his arm at the bad joke and types out the decline.

Brock's heart leaps when he sees an email from Edward Enninful, ccing Riccardo Tisci from Burberry, who is apparently still looking to fill a spot for London Fashion Week. Edward writes a little paragraph with a glowing recommendation of Brock, how delightful he was when they met last night. Apparently Jose took it upon himself to send Edward some of Brock's model shots at some point during dessert, because a few of his photos are attached.

Wow. Brock was planning to spend way too long drafting something to send on Monday. He didn't even have to wait that long.

Riccardo has responded enthusiastically, suggesting a time to set up a call, ccing his casting director, and saying the three of them and Vanj will have to get drinks when Brock is in town for the show, implying it's basically already a done deal.

There's another email after it from Edward inviting the two of them to a private dinner Victoria Beckham is hosting on the last night.

Brock screams, high and girly, and kicks his legs excitedly. 

"What, what?" Jose blinks at him confused. His body and iPad jiggle from Brock's excited kicking. He's usually the one reacting to things like that.

Brock shows him the email and Jose gasps happily, "Aw, yaaaay. Congrats baby. I knew you could do it."

He darts up and kisses him.

"Me? You literally did everything," Brock squeezes him tight, covers him in kisses.

"You were Wonder Woman," he mock-swoons, "My hero."

"I didn' make this perfect face," Jose squeezes Brock's cheeks, basking happily in the gratitude and praise.

"This perfect body," he feels him up under the sheets, winks at him.

"This perfect man right here. That all you, baby."

"Shut up. You're amazing," Brock shakes his head, kissing him more. "Thank you so much boo. I appreciate it so, so much."

"I know, baby, I know. You don't got to thank me. We a team," Jose beams.

"You know, I'm the brains of the operation, you the pretty face," he jokes, already laughing and nudging Brock saying, "Naw I'm only playin," before he's even finished. Brock makes a little high pitched mock-offended sound, pretends to clutch his pearls, but really he's too happy to even be mildly annoyed at the joke.

"Send me them details baby. I wanna make sure I can come," Jose says, playing with Brock's hair, smoothing it out of his face like a proud pageant mom.

"I gotta see my baby do her first Fashion Week. You know I'ma be in the front row."

He puts on a silly high pitched fan voice,

 _"Woo! Woo! Go Brooke Lynn!_ _I don't care bout them clothes on these other hos, y'all,_ _bring back the cute one!_ " his eyes sparkle at Brock like he couldn't be prouder. 

"You're gonna get us banned from London Fashion Week, aren't you?" Brock jokes, raising an eyebrow, making Jose push him off indignantly as he rolls out of bed, leans down reluctantly for one more kiss before he goes to shower.

Brock grins into the pillow and sighs happily.

"I'm gonna look sickening in Burberry," he says out loud but more or less to himself, though he hears a muffled,

"That's right baby, damn right," from the bathroom before the water turns on.

Jose has interviews downstairs in the hotel restaurant late afternoon and slaps Brock’s naked ass on his way out as Brock stretches heading for his own shower.

No matter how many gorgeous hotels they stay in Brock still swoons over a fancy rich lady hotel bathroom. He takes his time in the steam trying out the wonderful pressure from all three different rainfall shower heads. He gets ready for his show at the beautiful marble sink, with lighting so good he doesn’t even need his ring light.

He’s gone with one of his favorite textured short blonde wigs tonight and he feels like an expensive hooker slut in her fancy hotel room as he paints. His skin is looking really good and fresh, even unfiltered, from the sheet mask he did on the plane. His lips get bigger and bigger with each swipe of the applicator. He slathers Uncuffed on even more liberally now that he has access to unlimited freebies from Fenty Beauty from his boyfriend’s bestie.

///

When he gets back from interviews to find Brock doing face, Jose decides to be distracting and take a bath while he’s getting ready. As if he hadn't just showered a couple hours ago.

He soaps himself up very sensually in the decadent ornate tub, like a live porno in the mirror behind him. Eyes twinkling at him like a dare.

He’s gotten a lot more grounded and serious as he’s experienced all the crazy stuff of the past couple years but sometimes he can still be so silly, easily excitable, reminiscent of his old mischievous ways.

Brock rolls his eyes at the blatant move, even as his dick is showing interest in his sweatpants. He ignores him while he finishes blending his purple into his gold just to see how bratty he’ll get.

He starts exaggerated moaning, voice echoing off the marble,

“Mmm. This real nice. Feel so good in my lil bath tub. Gettin all soaped up. Gettin my dick hard. Hmm. All by myself and nobody to play with.” He stretches his arms up and runs them down his body.

“Sure wish my baby would come play with me. He too busy turning into a woman.”

Brock starts laughing at that. Puts down his eyeliner and turns around.

He absolutely refuses to mess up his makeup, but he shrugs his hoodie off onto the counter with a smile and takes over the soaping, on the condition that Jose promises to be a good boy and not splash him.

Jose nods eagerly, purring contentedly as Brock massages him all over before he pays his dick any attention. Sat on the edge of the bath in full face, hair and nails, watching him squirm under his hands. Jose burns hot under Brock's focussed attention.

It’s interesting to not use his mouth at all, no kissing anywhere. Brock's mouth is usually his best weapon. He relents once and presses a tiny light kiss to Jose’s wet ankle as he works his way from his foot up his leg. Pouts back at the mirror to check he didn’t mess anything up, feeling himself for a moment.

“You such a fuckin sexy woman,” Jose’s eyes watch him hungrily and Brock smirks, more Brooke than Brock. “You bout to turn me straight baby.”

Brock laughs out loud, breaking the mood for a second before shaking his head and re-focussing.

He loves giving pleasure. Especially sucking dick but even this. Each time feels like a little private performance and there’s nothing Brock gets high on more than someone’s undivided adoring attention. Jose in particular is a very vocal and appreciative audience.

“Mmm that’s nice,” Jose purrs when Brock soaps up his leg, works the tension out of his calf muscle. The quality of his attention, the intensity of his focus on Brock is delicious, makes the air almost crackle with electricity. But he gets impatient as Brock takes his sweet time with it and starts splashing him playfully.

“Stop it,” Brock looks up at him, warning. “Be good.”

“Make me,” Jose smirks smugly.

Brock casts around for ideas and lands on the hotel robes hanging on the back of the door.

“Where you goin? Don’t leave a bitch high and dry,” Jose whines when Brock gets up.

“You’re very wet baby,”

“Don’t leave a bitch wet in the tub the--Ohhh,” his pitch rises with interest, raising his eyebrows as Brock comes back with the belt from the hotel robe.

“All right,” pleased and compliant, Jose lifts his arms above his head for Brock to tie his wrists together.

When the knot is tight enough to hold, Brock runs his Brooke Lynn nails down the bared underside of Jose’s arms and down his chest. Picks up the soap and lathers it on his torso.

“I been dirty huh baby?” Jose licks his teeth grinning wickedly.

Brock drops one more tiny kiss on his lips just because he looks like such a snack all tied up and eager for him. Checks his lipstick in the mirror again and gets lost in his own beauty for a second before he turns his attention back to the tub.

“Yep,” Brock smiles slowly.

“Mmm,” Jose purrs arching his back up as Brock rubs thumbs across his nipples.

“Looks fun baby,” Brock eyes both him and the situation appreciatively.

“Oh yeah? We gon tie you up next? You been a bad girl too?” Jose asks, already knowing the answer from Brock’s eager grin.

He slides a hand up Jose’s chest, nails tickling, and wraps it around the bottom of his throat. Squeezes lightly, just enough to make his eyes darken.

“You know I’m a bad girl. Gonna punish me?” Brock says, a soft challenge, as his other hand slips down Jose’s abs and into the water, finally wrapping around Jose’s dick.

“Ohhh you a good ho tonight baby. You real good. Yeeeesssss,” Jose sighs and his head falls back against the tub.

Brock starts to remove the hand around his neck and Jose snaps his head back up in protest,

“Uh uh, keep it there,” and then,

“Mmm yessss baby, yes” when Brock squeezes his neck at the same time as he pulls up tight on his dick.

His eyes are dark and fixed on Brock’s mouth.

“Can I kiss you?”

Brock shakes his head.

“You’ll mess up my lips.”

“Please?”

“No. It took so long to get them even today.”

“Pleeaaaaase?”

“Nope.”

Jose pants, thrusting lazily into his hand, and thinks, tactics clearly visible on his face.

"I'll give you somethin nice."

Brock snorts, "Sure. Your dick?"

"No!" He gasps all indignant, like he doesn't regularly refer to both his dick and his ass as presents for Brock.

"Not like that, for real."

"Sure," Brock is unconvinced. 

“I will baby. Lemme kiss you and I’ll…hmm...” he pauses to think of a compelling enough bribe, “Oo bitch, I know. I'll buy you an apartment in South Africa," a gleam lights up his eyes like he’s on to a winner.

“What?” Brock laughs and shakes his head. “That’s an insane thing to say. What has an apartment in South Africa got to do with kissing me?”

“No fuckin thing at all. But you’d like it.” Jose says smugly, clearly very pleased with himself for thinking of it. “And I like kissin you. And I’ll buy you one if you let me kiss you.”

“Why?”

“Cuz I feel like it.” Jose shrugs and the water sloshes around him. “Your mouth look pretty. Feel like kissing you.”

And wow this really is Brock’s life now. This is an actual conversation he’s having.

“I want a house not an apartment,” he says, not sure if he’s playing along jokingly or serious. Still loosely, distractedly, stroking Jose, little pleased noises and pants coming from him between words.

“All right,” Jose shrugs, putting up absolutely no resistance. Brock could probably demand a global chain of hotels and he’d say yes. “So can I kiss you?”

Brock looks at him. Balances the thought of how long it took him to do his lips with how eager and sweet Jose is looking at him. How good and sweet he's been to him this whole weekend. Brock sighs in resignation.

“It better be a fucking big house.”

Then he leans down and lets Jose kiss his lipstick all over his face.

He either forgets or doesn’t care that his hands are tied together and tries to grab at Brock’s wig.

“Ah, ah, no hands. Your hands are wet, get off! Don’t pull on my wig!" Brock starts off serious and gets fond. "You're supposed to be restrained, you animal." 

Tying his hands together really did very little to stop him trying to boss Brock around, not that Brock really minds.

When he's had enough kissing he nudges Brock back and stands up in the bath. Bends over, tied hands on the porcelain, wet ass in the air for Brock to fuck, arched and blinking invitingly over his shoulder, bubbles dripping off his smooth back. It's oh so very tempting he nearly grabs his hips and bends him further over and squeezes a hand on the back of his neck. But Brock doesn't have long left before he needs to leave and knows he'll get anxious if he cuts it fine.

When he doesn't immediately start fucking him, Jose squirms around trying to reach behind with his tied wrists. Leaving a handprint on Brock's sweats where he tries to tug them down.

"Uh uh," Brock shakes his head, bats his hands away. Jose slaps them down on the porcelain again and looks over his shoulder with a frown.

"What you doing? You ain't gonna fuck me?" he pouts.

"Not like that." Brock kisses him quick, very benevolently pulls off two nails and starts fingering his ass instead, carries on jerking his dick. Jose starts to complain but Brock picks up the pace until he can't form words. Watches his arms and legs tremble when he leans over him to say velvety in his ear, "Come on, baby, come for me."

///

Jose watches Brock re-apply his lip after, sated and relaxed, head lolling back, typing on his phone, toes propped on the edge of the bath bouncing,

“Where you find houses in South Africa? Is it Cape Town we like or Zimbaw...Zimbabw...bitch how you pronounce this? This a real place, or that British ass bird from the fuckin Lion King?”

“Zimbabwe?” Brock asks, raising an eyebrow in the mirror, lightly amused. "You know that's a country."

“Zimbabwe. And his friends Timon and Pumbaa,” Jose mutters, tapping his phone.

"That's Zazu. Nina would be horrified. I'm telling her."

Jose smiles at him but frowns at his phone. Throws it to the side and says,

“Whatever. Find you one you like and send it to Jasmine. Tell her I said to get it.”

He sighs in relaxation in the bath, sloshes water over his stomach, murmurs lazily,

“Maybe we could go out there for New Years. See your friends.”

“That’d be nice,” Brock smiles at him through the mirror. He hasn’t got out there yet this year, they’ve been so busy, and he tries to visit at least once a year, so many good memories and good old friends still there.

“Ooo bitch we should get one with the things where they grow the grapes. You know, where we went last time with the fields and that cute lil swing we got nasty on outside...all them grapes in that bigass garden..."

“A vineyard?” Brock supplies.

“Vineyard, yeah!” He splashes excitedly in the bath.

“Chil’ I don’t know what's wrong with me tonight, I can’t find no damn words. Baby, you done fuck the articulation right outta me.”

“Thats nice,” Brock grins. “That’s almost poetic, boo.”

“Ooo bitch yes. Let's get us a vineyard baby,” Jose sloshes more water around, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Vines for the wines. Ooo we can make our own wines. Sell 'em. Miss Sauvanjie-gnon, bitch. Pinot vanjoir. Sauvignon Vanj.”

Brock's giggles started with the wine names and at that one he cracks up with whooping giggles, struggling to breathe, repeating "Sauvignon Vanj."

"Sauvignon Vanj, Cabernet Vanjie-gnon, Vanjiraz," Jose gets into a little performance of it, delighting in Brock's enjoyment of him.

Eventually Brock shakes his head, tears in his eyes from laughing, wiping them away from his makeup,

“Boo we’d have to live there all the time to cultivate our own vineyards."

“Nah we’ll get some lil farmers and shit. Some planter hos. All we gotta do is name ‘em. I’m good at naming wines, bitch. Miss Merlotjie--”

“You’re just putting your name in the names of wines, boo,” Brock interrupts, giggling again, before he can name another wine. 

“Right. It’s called branding, baby. Which one of us a millionaire, hm?”

Brock rolls his eyes and says, “You,” very reluctant to let him win that.

“That’s right my baby boo,” Vanjie smirks, pleased.

Before Brock can sass back that it doesn’t make him any smarter than Brock, joke that if anything Vanjie is doing so well because people love how dumb he is, he says,

“It’ll be cute. You loved it when we was there last year.”

That's true, it was a gorgeous little estate to stay on but,

"Sure, but I don't think we can buy that actual one."

"Sure we can baby. We can buy whatever we want. We rich hos now," Jose beams at him.

"You gotta get with it, boo. You already know your ass born to be a rich bitch, just lean into it baby. Anything you want we can get it." Jose stretches languidly out of the water, droplets rolling down his smooth chest.

"My baby get what she wants. He perfect and I take good care of him."

His eyes sparkle at Brock in the mirror.

The number of times Brock has to tell his boyfriend that just because Brock loves something does not mean Jose has to buy him one, he’s lost count. 

His old friends will be so gagged if he shows up this year inviting them over to an estate with a fucking vineyard.

All because his boyfriend felt like kissing him during a handjob.

It was an absolutely ridiculous thing to offer of course, and realistically Brock shouldn’t let Jose follow through on it. They’d get so little use out of it and that’s the kind of purchase you think through not buy on a whim.

But the fact that he _can_ , that this is his life now...

Brock always pays his fair share half of everything when they’re out together. Paid for all the clothes he got today himself. He’s fully aware half the money he has now is because of things his boyfriend has helped with anyway.

But Jose is always more than ready to be generous, loves to treat him. 

When they went to get Brock’s car he handed him his black card in the showroom and sat down with his feet up on his phone saying,

“Get whatever baby, my treat.”

Brock has always enjoyed indulging in privileges. Appreciates how lucky he is to have them but enjoys indulging in them. Jose indulges Brock more than he indulges himself - which is already a lot. Brock tells him he doesn't need to spoil him like that but when Jose doesn't listen and does it anyway, he enjoys being spoiled. 

Jose is annoyingly right, he actually really does love the idea of a holiday home in South Africa, somewhere that's always been special to his heart. Now that it’s been planted he wants to have it.

Brock pouts at his newly finished lip.

“She's a woman!" He gasps playful and light.

Rather than reattach the two nails he takes them all off and looks for his little black gloves. He's pretty enough to be lazy about his hands tonight.

"Think you can behave yourself for twenty minutes til we leave, Papi?”

He was joking but Jose is smirking at him over his shoulder the mirror, standing up in the bath.

"Nope," he winks and sticks his tongue out.

Brock got half hard taking care of him in the bath. Thinking about fucking on the porch swing of a South African vineyard has done nothing to discourage it. But he really doesn't have time to do anything about it before the show.

Jose raises his eyebrows at the bulge in Brock’s sweats,

“You know we don’t needa kiss to fuck, baby.”

When Brock looks at him in the mirror he’s undoing the knot around his wrists with his teeth and his dick is stirring.

“Round two already?” He smirks. “You literally just came,”

“You know I can’t get enough of you Brooky tooky.” he is grinning mischievously.

Brock raises an eyebrow at both the particularly obnoxious nickname and the eagerness. “Insatiable, huh?”

“Only cuz you teasin me so much,” he tilts his head and smiles, soft and warm.

Encouraged by the involuntary spark in Brock’s eyes in the mirror, he hops out the bath and comes close, dripping on the marble floor.

He runs wet hands up Brock’s bare back, then down his bare chest when he turns around, hips resting against the sink. Puts his fingers around Brock’s wrists which are on the marble. The pressure of them there is temptingly pleasant but --

“You can’t tie me up yet, I’ve got to get ready. Punish me later for being so wicked to you,” Brock’s eyes gleam as he grins evilly, Jose’s eyes fixed on his pretty painted mouth.

“Oh we gon tie you up real good later. Once you gone danced for everybody like a good girl. I got plans for that pretty mouth baby,” Jose says low and leaning close, blowing a slow air kiss inches from Brock's lips, biting at the inch of air next to his perfectly contoured cheek.

A shiver goes down Brock’s spine. If he didn’t have fresh lipstick on he knows Jose would be forcing his thumb between his lips.

Jose loves his mouth and Brock loves loves _loves_ sucking dick. Especially when they play like that and Jose makes him feel all slutty about it. He gets harder, and sees Jose is getting fully hard again as well.

“But I ain’t even thinkin bout that now. I got another idea.”

“I haven’t got time…” Brock sighs. He really, really shouldn't. Though he technically does have about fifteen spare minutes…

“Don’t lie. You always early. Early bird catches the worm bitch. Come get this worm baby.”

“I already caught your _worm_ ,” Brock raises an eyebrow, very Brooke Lynn.

“Come catch this ass then.”

Jose takes Brock’s hands from the sink to put them on his wet ass. Smirks when Brock mindlessly squeezes it instinctively, pulls him tight against him, getting his sweats unsalvageably wet and his dick harder.

Jose’s voice gets soft and daring as Brock’s hands squeeze him close,

“Seen that balcony we got, baby? Want you inside me over that view.”

Brock crumbles at that. Something about the grandiosity and cinematicness of it is irresistible. Feels like a moment they'll remember.

He picks Jose up. Wet legs wrap around him, his naked body wet and slippery in Brock’s hands.

For the first time in her career, Brooke Lynn Hytes is five minutes late for her call time.

She’s also wearing jeans instead of her usual sweats.

In her defense that skyline over the arch of Jose's back as she fucked him on the edge of the balcony, one hand over his mouth to try to quiet his shouting into the night, proving largely ineffective as he bit and panted and screamed into her hand, was a perfect moment. She had to let go of his hips to pump him with her free hand but he didn't need the guidance, hands pushing against the balcony railing, fucking back into her with as much force as she was fucking him. 

Jose comes to the show, hanging out backstage, hiding from the crowd, sitting quietly next to Brooke’s mirror on his phone. Baseball cap and hoodie on to hide from even the other queens, though they recognize him immediately. Everyone knows he and Brooke Lynn are together.

He's sweet and friendly when they introduce themselves overeagerly, especially if it's someone Brock introduces him to rather than one who just comes over, but mostly keeps to himself, sitting next to her getting ready. 

“Don’t tip me,” Brock warns him, for the tenth time, knowing he’s going to anyway.

The grown up little fanboy in Jose finds it absolutely thrilling to tip Brooke Lynn when she’s in her element.

“You know I can’t help it. You so sexy,” Jose steps up behind her in the mirror, grabs at her padded hips. Runs his fingers along the word Hytes on the black straps. Follows them around her ribs and down between her legs til he’s running fingers over her tuck.

“Gotta give my baby mama her blessings.”

“Stop fingering me I’m nicely tucked,” she moves his hand up to rest on her tit instead, and he squeezes it, laughing along with the other queens nearby who heard.

“Don’t do it, Papi,” she warns.

“Really, don’t.” she rocks her hips back into him and he wraps both arms tight around her waist, feeling her real body. Her padding is right today. She looks like a beautiful hourglass wh-oman.

Jose blows her a kiss in the mirror.

“Beautiful, baby girl. Fish fillet, I could eat ya,” he murmurs as they both admire her eyes, her cheekbones. She raises an eyebrow at his word choice, doesn't rise to the innuendo bait. That sheet mask on the plane did her right. She really is glowing. Or maybe some of the glow is from smiling at her boyfriend being so cute.

///

Brock knows it was a pointless warning.

No matter how much Brock promises he can tip Brooke Lynn all he likes in private, Jose just has to do it at the shows, just can’t control himself, awe and excitement and lust in his eyes like the rest of the fans in the room.

It was fine before he was this famous, if a bit awkward sometimes after they broke up, but nowadays it’s truly asking for trouble.

Brooke Lynn makes it through two numbers with him bouncing on his heels in the wings, winking whenever she looks off at him but otherwise managing to restrain himself.

Then Drunk In Love comes on.

When she twirls and her back hits the floor she looks up at him in the wings as she runs her hand down her chest and between her legs. Mouths, “Daddy I want you,” directly to him.

He shakes his head, grabs a handful of his dick over his jeans as he bites his lip at her, but manages to restrain himself.

And okay, it’s possibly partly her fault for encouraging him. But it’s so fun to see how worked up he gets. To know it’s all her. Even with everyone he’s met and all the amazing things he does now that she can still make him look at her like that. Like the feeling she gets from an audience but magnified.

It eases that insecure part of Brock that still remembers being an awkward repressed teen who hadn’t grown into his looks and felt too big for his body around cute boys he wasn't supposed to feel the way he did about. The part that became the mean girl at church because he got addicted to the feeling of everyone listening to him for once instead of shouting insults like they did at school, even if he only had their attention because what he was saying was so intimidatingly shady. The part that drove him to need attention and validation from audiences and men. The part that sometimes gets so socially anxious he can’t speak. The part that sees his older brothers and knows he’ll lose his looks one day along with his hairline. The part that, secure as he is in Jose’s love for him, as pretty as he knows he is _now_ , worries whether Jose, who has been beautiful and charismatic - he’s seen the home videos - since the day he came out of a woman who looks like a living Snapchat filter, Jose who is beautiful inside as well as out, who will always be golden and glowing and _good_ and loved, will ever one day regret pouring all his love into him. Feel tricked by Brock’s charm or looks or something and resent all the years wasted one day when Brock isn't as pretty, can't dance like he used to, and only has his meager self left to offer.

When Brooke Lynn rolls up to all fours, legs spread, and arches in front of him she can feel he’s vibrating from across the stage with the effort of not running on stage and smacking her ass like it belongs to him, even as she turns her bedroom eyes on the audience. But he restrains himself.

It’s when she does a handstand and starts booty popping against the back wall that she hears a loud whistle and a familiar gravelly whoop. A shower of more hundreds than she’s ever seen at once flutter all around her, raining down from offstage.

And that’s just ridiculous. They don’t even carry that much cash. It’s more than he could take out at an ATM. He must have stopped at the bank today for that.

She imagines him doing it all excited on the way back from his TV interview this morning, hiding the cash before he got back in bed and woke her up with kisses.

Come on, now, baby. Really?

If it’s a territorial thing he may as well just come on stage and pee in a circle around her, it would be more subtle.

If he’s truly that worked up and excited, well, they’ve already fucked three and a couple half times today and they’re planning on tying her up when they get home later. They always have a healthy sex life but that's pretty damn good even for them. She’s even picked out an outfit for later from the couple pieces she has in her weekend bag, mid way between dominatrix Brooke Lynn and slutty Brock. It will certainly involve her sucking the fuck out of his dick at the very least, probably him riding her, maybe something interesting with his toys, or a little fucking her if she’s feeling daring. Brock's mind jumps to the thought of Jose yanking him close by a leather strap around his chest with his hands behind his back and his dick pulls against his tuck. But point being, is a couple hours of self restraint in between so much to ask?

Apparently so.

The crowd starts screaming when they notice the bills are not ones, or tens, or twenties.

Some of them must know by now to look for him, having heard about him doing this at other shows. A lot of his fans are her fans too, but all of her fans are his.

A couple people at the right angle on the opposite side of the stage spot him in the wings, start pointing and taking photos. Murmurs spread through the crowd and soon the whole room is piling into that corner, trying to get a glimpse of him.

He smiles at them sweetly, does a little wave, but she can see it bothers him to be distracting attention from her performance, sees him torn between leaving so the show can carry on properly and not wanting to stop watching.

Rolling her eyes and sighing, she comes up with a compromise.

She hops down off the stage gracefully to grab a chair, easy to do when half the room is empty, everyone squashed on the other side. She plants the chair on stage, right in the middle. Rests a hand on the back of it and turns back to him, raising her eyebrows in a challenge.

“Come on then. You wanna enjoy the show, Big Guy? Come enjoy the show,” she calls, loud enough for him to hear over the music, soft enough that most of the audience probably don’t.

He’s shaking his head, embarrassed, ducking it shyly, pulling his cap down, but he comes out. The crowd screams as he walks on stage grinning, waving shyly. He plants himself in the chair, legs wide and arms resting on them all boy and trade, looking up at her adoringly.

It’s actually from the viral video of that lap dance that Brooke Lynn gets offered her first movie role.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I had to stop it there or it could have just gone on forever detailing the entire rest of their lives! Hope the ending wasn’t too abrupt! And that everyone who wanted a sequel/epilogue enjoyed!
> 
> BTW I totally had the vineyard in here (and have it in another half written fic) before that Kelowna video! Was totally getting wine tasting vibes from B subconsciously :)
> 
> I'm gonna try not to write B/V for a while now cuz I have a bunch of things I need to focus on, but who knows I may be back sooner than later! May not even last a day, ha. But if I do succeed in disappearing for a while, saying this here so you'll know that's why! I do have two other B/V fics half written that I may post some time if I ever get chance to finish them. One of them has more Vanquaria in it and also a tiny bit of Vanjore and a B/V sex scene I really like :) But I may honestly never finish it so I shouldn't even mention it out in public like this! Ha. Thanks so much for everyone's wonderful feedback and responses to my writing in the B/V fandom. I appreciate all the love so much! :)
> 
> .
> 
> I am really struggling with loss of work due to COVID 19. If you enjoyed this story, or any of my writing (or hate it but feel like doing something nice today!) please consider [sending me a digital cup of coffee](https://poppedthep.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> If even half the people who see this did it, it would make a huge difference! 
> 
> If you can’t or don’t want to, that’s cool. People here are the best. You are totally welcome to continue enjoying my stories no matter what!


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